


Femme Fatale

by odeon



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Detectives, F/F, Femme Fatale, Gratuitous Smut, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Romance, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Turtles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6273754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odeon/pseuds/odeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The moment I saw her I knew she would be trouble. Trouble with a capital T as in Tease, Trepidation and Turmoil..." A noirish yet contemporary take on Carol and The Price of Salt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> A short beginning I came up with. Let's see where this one goes...

_“The moment I saw her I knew she would be trouble. Trouble with a capital T as in Tease, Trepidation and Turmoil. Standing in front of me in a skimpy red dress and a pair of fuck me heels, she beckoned me to put my life in jeopardy and I was only too willing to oblige…”_

“Cut the crap, Cantrell. We haven’t even seen her yet”, I said. “I’m sick and tired of your channeling… who is it again? _Philippa_ Marlowe?” Genevieve opened the car window to throw away her cigarette. “Now, you’ll have to admit it sounds kind of lame – ‘Philippa’???” she protested, but I was having none of it. “I don’t particularly enjoy stalking anyone, let alone a complete stranger, and you adding a voice over to my utter boredom won’t make it any easier.”

My name is Therese Belivet. Yeah, it’s lovely. And this is _my_ voice over.

It all began a week ago when I happened to visit my friend’s detective agency one late afternoon. Genevieve Cantrell, the black sheep in the long line of NYPD Cantrells, was having a meeting with a dark haired man in his forties. This guy oozed money in his well-tailored suit and shiny lacquered shoes throwing bills off his money clip as if it were confetti. He wanted his soon to be ex-wife tailed and properly. Photos, videos, the works – whatever dirt my friend could dig up before the divorce hearings.

She was a looker, he said and he was reluctant to let her go. But if the shit was going to hit the fan, he would make damn sure not to part with his money or his daughter, Nerinda. “Nerinda…” my friend complained when he'd left, “what kind of name is that anyway? Sounds like something out of a 40’s film noir… ‘Nerinda Aird’, the femme fatale.” Cantrell was drumming the desk with her fingers. _She’s a drama queen, I know._

“She’s six so she hardly qualifies as one,” I quipped back. “You’re really thinking about following this poor woman around?” It sounded like a sordid business. “Well, it’s not like I’ve been getting any high profile cases lately, now is it?” she replied sounding positively discouraged. _No, she wasn’t_. Sunrise Detective Agency was struggling to make ends meet though it was doing slightly better now when the unfortunate typo on the office door had finally been fixed. ‘Sunrice’ had brought about clients looking for oriental foodstuff. It’s also true what they say about the contemporary private dick business – it’s almost exclusively about husbands and wives trying to catch their unfaithful spouses in the act.  “And I need you to help me with this, to go on a stakeout with me. Bring your camera etc.”  

I knew she would ask me so I had my answer ready. I needed all the money I could get and this one seemed to offer a steady flow. Not that I particularly looked forward to it, quite the contrary, in fact, but it wasn’t like I was rolling in dough. I was practically an orphan with nothing to show for. My father had died when I was still a kid and my mother… oh she was something else… she had remarried and pretty much forgotten all about me. Well, I was better off without her.

If I wanted to experience family life I was always welcome to visit the Cantrells and fill up my share of domestic chaos in no time. Genevieve has like six brothers, each of them a cop and each one cockier than any guy I have ever dated. Don’t get me wrong, they’re a joyous bunch and I love them to death but when she suggested I go out with one of them, I said no in no uncertain terms. Actually, I think she was relieved. It was probably not her idea to begin with, anyway. This much I gathered from the way her brother Jeff was ogling at me every time I showed up.

Jeff. All of the siblings have these really pompous names like Genevieve, Alexander and Leopold and then – Jeff. As if their parents had suddenly run out of imagination of how to call the youngest one in the lot. When I pointed it out to Genevieve she thought it had to do with simple exhaustion. They’d been busy procreating and with the latest edition they’d just ran out of steam.  

So there I was sitting in Cantrell’s shitty Toyota with my Nikon and a tele lens ready to snap away pics of some damsel in distress. It was getting dark and the car had cooled down considerably. I was getting cold and cranky. The lukewarm take away coffee tasted like crap in my mouth fitting my mood perfectly. To add to the misery, I kept thinking about my set designs which had once again been rejected as too ambitious for an off off-Broadway production. “We can’t simply afford this.” How many times had I heard the same sorry line over the past year and a half? I guess I could have stuck with simple cardboard backdrops with some blurry savanna scenery painted on them, but it wasn’t a Lion King on a shoestring I was aiming at, now was it?

I noticed my friend freeze for a moment before leaning over the steering wheel. Following her lead I made out a shadowy figure stepping out of an apartment building and heading towards the elm covered street. A woman in her forties was approaching us quickly and for a second I thought of ducking my head under the dashboard. She passed by not paying any attention to us.

But I did pay attention. She was gorgeous. I mean abso-fucking-lutely stunning in her red cape-like overcoat complimenting her perfectly lined ruby red lips. I caught only a glimpse of her face framed by platinum blonde curls peeking out of a loose scarf. She was lighting a cigarette and in its glow I saw a pair of gray eyes more beautiful than any set of peepers I’d ever gazed at. I wanted to run after her just to stare at those exquisite features for one more minute. _Oh god_ how I wanted to do it.  

* * *

“You forgot to take photos!?” Cantrell was not a happy camper. “I give you one, let me say it again, ONE thing to do and you manage to fuck it up royally.” I felt really uncomfortable. “Well, it’s not like I’m a seasoned pro in this business of yours”, I objected. “But I'm going to make it up to you, I promise.” _Boy, was I ever_. If it were up to me I’d stalk this woman till the end of my days.

 


	2. The Photos

Let's get one thing straight. I'm not a weirdo, okay? I've a job, quite a few of them, actually, and a deep-seated wish to some day make a living as a set designer. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with getting interested in humans every once in a while. Or in one human with an incredible pair of gray eyes and a blonde hair – not to mention the lips, the legs and the sultry contours of her body. Yeah, I guess I kinda made up the last part for not having seen her too clearly yet. I have a pretty vivid imagination.  
  
Alright, alright, I did get a bit carried away, I admit.  
  
Two days later I was back at my post. It'd been hard to keep my cool under Genevieve's prying eyes but I think I did a pretty good job. She told me what I needed to know to pursue my interest... eh, assignment.  
  
The pompous ass waving the money, H.F. Aird, had told her about his wife's weekly routines thus giving us a basic time frame of where and how to reach her at any given time. I would only have to spot her in one of these places and take it from there – follow her around, photograph her meetings, keep a journal of the places and people she visited. Just your basic stuff, really.  
  
Mrs Aird. The soon-to-be-former Mrs Aird. If there was anything fishy going on in her life, my friend would drag it up into the light of day. No doubt about it. My job was to provide the physical evidence. The needed physical evidence.  
  
To catch her _in flagrante_ , as Cantrell put it, would yield us a jackpot from Mr Spare No Expenses himself. "He seems like a slimy snake, don’t you think?" I said. "An occupational hazard", my friend explained dryly. Well, what can you do, really? It's not like anyone's pitching us a case dealing with a mysterious bird statue. And Cantrell is no Bogart. Mrs Aird could wipe the floor with Mary Astor, though, I thought watching the Maltese Falcon from my iPhone screen. Easily.  
  
I had loaned my friend Dannie's van for the night though it did make me feel like a real freak. Stalker with a van – definitely not something you'd put on your resume. It did however help with the picture taking since I could mount my tripod inside the car and shoot through the side window. _I should not have told you that, right? Superfreak, c'est moi._  
  
I'd decided to keep a safe distance, I had the tele lens after all and a professional camera which enables me to shoot in rapid succession. I'd be cooped up in here safe and sound when the lady would come out, take my pics and flee the scene if necessary. If I wanted to.  
  
She left around the same time as last time. Watching her walk down the street, I took the photos and felt pretty pleased with myself. Well, as pleased as any stalker in my position would feel. It didn't seem like she had a car nearby so I was a bit puzzled as what to do next. I couldn't very well follow her footsteps with a van at snail speed, could I?  
  
I thought about leaving the van and tailing her by foot when I saw her wave a cab. I pulled out and kept my distance without losing a sight of her taxi. She got out at the Ritz, and I parked the van nearby. I took my SLR with me and followed her in. Standing behind a column I proceeded to take a couple of pics of her talking with a dark haired woman. They seemed to be having an animated conversation.  
  
Most of the time she stood her back turned on me which started to bug the hell out of me. I had the urge to walk up to her and see her up close. Instead I did the second best thing, I decided to circle them around and walk past her as if by chance. That way I would at least get a look of her face. I don't know why I insisted upon doing it, I just did. It was like a basic need in me, one I couldn't shake no matter how hard I tried. _To be honest, I didn’t try very hard_.  
  
Walking towards her I could feel my heart beating wildly like an alien trying to bust its way out of my chest. _Not a pretty picture, I know_. It was all totally unprofessional.  
  
When I got within a couple of feet from her I could finally see the awesome gray eyes. My racing heart stopped for a second. The woman was fighting back tears and it made me feel like a total heel. The brunette put her hand on her shoulder in consolation.

* * *

After two hours she made her exit.  I followed her to a parking lot where she had her own car waiting. Luckily mine wasn’t far away. When she pulled out I noticed something greyish falling off the roof of her car. She had evidently forgotten it there while looking for her car keys in her handbag. Without really thinking it through, I stopped the van and went to pick it up. A very nice pair of leather gloves. I took them with me – only to realize I had lost the sight of her car while indulging myself.

So I went back home. I figured she was done for the day, anyway. I uploaded the van pics on my computer and was pleasantly surprised to see how brilliantly they turned out. How brilliantly _she_ turned out. No airbrushing needed. I spent the next few hours gawking at her on my laptop screen, even outlining her impeccable features with my finger from time to time. _I know, sounds creepy._

Then I took my SLR and went to the dark room. (Yeah, I’m the stalker with a van AND a dark room.) When I got to the point where I was ready to put my first print in developer, I was ridiculously excited. I could hardly breathe watching it reveal its mystery submerged in the rippling liquid. She appeared to me more delicate and nuanced than I could’ve anticipated. Even in anguish her face was far more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. The soft skin, the blonde locks, the serene forehead, the splendid curve of her nose and jawline… I needed to take a breather, the chemicals were surely getting to me.

I sat by my kitchenette table watching the photos and fondling the forgotten gloves I now had in my possession. They smelled of fine leather and intoxicating perfume she must have applied to her pulse points. I tried them on. _Her hands must be slightly bigger than mine_. What should I do with them? Mail them to her? And what kind of a note would I attach to it? “You are magnificent”? “I love you”? WHAT?!? _I must be going mad_.

* * *

The next day I took the photos to Cantrell who took a long time before saying a single word. “What the fuck, Belivet?” _Okay, she wasn’t happy_. “These are all close ups of her. I can’t even make out the face of the other woman.” She looked at me as if I were deranged. _Maybe I was_. “This is not your art school project and you’re not supposed to go all Annie-fucking-Leibovitz on me.” Waving the stack of photos in front of me, she shook her head in disbelief. “For god’s sake, Therese, get a grip!”


	3. The Meet Up

I caught up with Mrs Aird again the next day. It occurred to me that I had never seen her during daytime, so it was a whole new sensation to feast my eyes on her in the bright light. She was wearing a really tight-fitting pencil skirt with a matching blazer, sheer stockings and high heels which made me as dizzy as if I were wearing them myself. She kept pushing a stubborn tress of hair behind her ear and I couldn't help but grin at the uselessness of the gesture. The red of her lips made everything else seem lifeless and dull as if it were draining the energy from the surrounding objects and people.

Cantrell had made damn sure I finally understood what I was supposed to do. I have to hand it to her that after her initial shock of seeing my not so convincing surveillance photos she let it slide. "I don't know what's going on, Belivet, but I'm sure you'll be able to step your game up." While getting coffee she reminded me to stay in touch throughout the day. "Text me if you're unsure of your next move, text me if anything unexpected happens, okay?" She really meant it. "And call me when you're finished for the day. I don't care what time is it, just call me, okay?" I nodded sheepishly as if I were a child being scolded for making trouble.

Following the blonde bombshell make her way around the Bloomingdale's department store was like looking at a single bright coloured figure in a black and white movie. She didn't seem particularly interested in buying anything, it looked like she was more or less killing time. In the toy department I tripped on the electric cord of a display toy train and hurt my foot so that it started to bleed. Not caring one bit I spied her contemplating her next move which turned out to be a lunch at Scully's on Madison. The same woman I'd seen yesterday joined her there shortly after.

"@BLOOMINGDALE'S, NOW @SCULLY'S. MEETING MYSTERY WOMAN. HURT MY FOOT," I texted to Cantrell.

"SHE HURT YOUR FOOT? WTF?" she replied. "DONT GET 2 CLOSE." I wasn't quite getting my message through.

I couldn't really make anything out of their conversation since the booth kept the voices pretty well insulated. Wanting to make up for my lacking performance, I drew a timeline of her day so far. Why, I have no clue. (Actually I ended up sketching a picture of her delicious derriere on my notebook.) I did however manage to bump into their waiter after he had left their table with the brunette's credit card. I picked it up from the floor and handed it back to him. A Mastercard belonging to one Abigail Gerhard.

"MYSTERY WOMAN A. GERHARD" I texted victoriously. Got back a big thumbs up emoji - not quite what I thought I'd have deserved.

She had a meeting with her lawyer later on which took a considerable length of time. I almost thought I'd somehow lost her, let her disappear by a back door or something like it. I let out a sigh of relief when she finally reappeared.

"@LAWYER NOW HOME I THINK" (Cantrell left this one unanswered.)

It was getting late when she was ready to call it a day. I tailed her car within a moderate distance never really staying in a clear view of her rear mirror. That's why it took me by surprise to see her car suddenly so very close after an unexpected curve in the road.

The woman was standing on the side of the road smoking a cigarette. She looked frustrated. When I approached her car - it would have been too conspicuous to turn around now - she waved her hand at me. Hesitating, I pulled over.

"You're a star for stopping by!" she said beaming at me. "Everything okay?" I asked stupidly. _Of course everything wasn't, she wouldn't have stopped me otherwise._ "I seem to have a flat, and it's something I know absolutely nothing about. Do you happen to have a phone with you?" She needed to call a towing service. "Sure," I said in my eloquent and wordy fashion. "Here."

I had compromised my clandestine identity, become a more or less distinctive face in her sea of thousands of strangers. _Well, fuck if I care_. "Would you like me to drive you somewhere? It's no trouble at all," I said surprised by my sudden boldness. She thought about it for a while, then, as if deciding it all at once, she nodded thankfully. "How very kind of you. Thanks."

She got in and I became far too conscious of her sitting so close to me. Her perfume was killing me. "I'm Carol," she said as if confirming a fact I must have already known. "Therese." I replied letting my sight linger on her knockout body. I had to fight an unprecedented urge to jump her right there and then. _This is not happening_.

" _Terez_? That's how you pronounce it? Not Theresa?" I loved the way my name rolled out of her tongue. "Yeah, the French way." I wouldn't give a time of day to anyone who'd call me otherwise. I had once dated a guy who had insisted nicknaming me Terry. I shuddered at the memory. _I'll show you another French way if you let me_.

"I bet you hoped it would be a man who'd come to your rescue with this kind of trouble." I hardly knew how to drive let alone fix a tyre. "I doubt very much if I would've gotten into a strange man's car," she said smiling lightheartedly. "No, I'm delighted. Delighted to be in your company." My heart was humming a happy tune though I was feeling guilty for my following her in the first place. "Take a turn here," she instructed. "My house is at the end of the driveway."

It was a huge stone mansion. Ridiculously huge, I thought, but at least I got to see a glimpse of how the rich folks live. I stopped the car and waited for her to get out. "Would you like to have a late night snack or a drink? I feel like it's the least I can do since you've been so awfully kind." She looked at me curiously. "I also have the whole house to myself tonight and could use some company." I turned the engine down making yet another foolish decision. "Why not. A drink couldn't hurt." _Yeah right_. She smiled approvingly and led me inside the lone and somewhat gloomy house.

"Whatever you'll having", I replied to her inquiry as to what kind drink I would like to sample. I was suddenly very thirsty. My lips felt parched when I looked at her leaning over the liquor cabinett. Her narrow skirt had a slit on the back revealing a pair of shapely legs. Soon enough I was eagerly sipping away, finishing my tumbler of rye in no time. "Care for another one?" she asked clearly amused by my speedy enthusiasm. "Sure." So I was back to one word answers again? _I'm such a motor mouth._

Clearly enjoying her drink, she put a record on. I was succumbing to the sweet intoxication of a stiff drink I normally wouldn't have ordered in a bar. Wine left me naughty in a good way, but this one seemed to render me... hmm, horny?

Listening to Billie Holiday I felt awfully drowsy all of a sudden as if she had slipped a mickey in my rye. The room was spinning and I realized I was slouching on my seat. _Did she just drug me?!_ My cheeks felt numb. "Would you like to lie down for a while?" she asked her soft voice echoing all around the elegant parlour. _I would with you,_ I thought my breathing becoming faster and agitated.

I thought about the gloves I still had at my place thinking of myself as a mere thief. Thought about my tailing her and her not knowing anything about it. _I'm such a pathetic liar._

"There are things I want to tell you..." I started the words sticking desperately to my throat. I felt her hovering over me, her face coming really close at times and then getting blurry again. The gray eyes with a blinding fire within consuming me in the most marvelous way. "...things I'm not sure you want to hear." I was sinking further away from my own words when I suddenly felt her hands sliding inside my jeans pockets. _What the fuck!?_

"Tell me things, please..." she whispered in a velvety voice that seemed to spring from far away, from another world sweeter than this. But I was no poet, even less than literate, really, since I closed my eyes and passed out right there on the sofa.


	4. The Hangover

I woke up with a pounding headache, my temples throbbing violently each time a ray of light hit my face. My tongue tasted foul as if something had defecated in my mouth.

I couldn't recognize my surroundings, I was only aware of lying down in a bed in a strange room that looked lived in. Suddenly it hit me: I was still at Mrs Aird's gothic stone mansion after having passed out on her sofa. Alarmed, I sat up regretting it instantly. The room spinned before my eyes and I felt like throwing up. I became even more rattled when I realized I was wearing only my bra and panties. My clothes were neatly folded on the bureau with the rest of my stuff - my cell phone, wallet, keys, whatever trash I had in my pockets, my camera bag and the notebook right next to them. _The bloody notebook..._ A wave of nausea made me dash to the adjoining bathroom and hurl spectacularly into the toilet.

My feet trembling I returned to my things and picked up my cell. Nine missed calls. Six text messages from Cantrell.

"WHAT'S UP?"

"YOU OK?"

"WTF? ANSWER ME. WHERE ARE YOU?"

"GETTING REALLY PISSED WITH THIS SHIT OF YOURS. PICK UP YOUR DAMN PHONE!"

"LOSING MY PATIENCE! ANSWER ME NOW!!!"

"PLEASE CALL ME. THIS IS NOT FUNNY ANYMORE."

I sent her a short text saying my cell had run out of juice and I would get back to her as soon as I could. No reply. Genevieve was mad and I couldn't blame her.

Mrs Aird had gone through my things, that much I gathered from my sorry state. _Yup, I was royally, utterly fucked_. The notebook was opened from the page where I had doodled her rear end. My driver's license photo stared back at me from my wallet. It seemed to acknowledge the fact I knew only too well. _I'm such a tool..._

I poured myself a glass of water from the pitcher left on the bedroom table. The window was slightly ajar and I picked up distant voices emanating from below. I hid behind the curtains and saw two women, Mrs Aird and Miss Gerhard, speaking in a low voice in the yard. I could only make a few words out of what they were saying.

"...else could I have done?"

"...maybe dangerous?"

"Well... I can... harmless as far as I..."

"Oh really, Carol?"

She'd asked me to call her Carol. I wondered if she still wanted me to do so.

I was a mess shivering there by the window but she looked like the Winged Victory of Samothrace standing regally in the sunlight, the wisps of her blonde hair picking up the breeze, playing with its currents. My cheeks were burning up and I thought how very wonderful it would be to press my hot aching body against her cool bosom. I looked at the crumpled sheets and imagined her there with absolutely nothing on. Nothing but me. My breathing became uneven again. I needed to brush my teeth. Badly.

Mrs Aird shot a glance at the window and although I ducked, the curtains must have quivered just enough for her to draw her own conclusions of my whereabouts. I heard the front door opening and grabbed my shirt and jeans. I wasn't about to face her in my underwear. She must have undressed me, though, flashed through my brain.

Two sets of feet were climbing the stairs. My breath was quickening. A knock on the door didn't really expect me to answer it. I didn't. The door swung open.

"Morning." Her face was stern. I nodded sheepishly. "I think you have some explaining to do." I nodded again. "Preferably in English," said her friend who made herself comfortable sitting in a chair facing me. Carol remained standing her arms folded.

"I, uh..." I started my words getting tangled in my mouth. "Yes?" She sounded angry. "I am so sorry... for everything." _I was._ "That's all you have to say for yourself?" Her voice was positively livid. "I tried to tell you last night before... before I passed out." My eyes were burning. "I bet you were," her friend scoffed at me. "You coming here under false pretenses, trying to wiggle your way to her good graces..." I cringed at her words. "No!" I exclaimed, "It was nothing like that..." _but she did have a point._ "My friend asked me to help her out and at first I said yes but now..." Seeing the expression on Carol's face I fell silent all of a sudden. She looked so hurt and disappointed. I wanted to go to her and wrap my arms around her, beg for her forgiveness, cup her perfectly sculpted face and kiss her, again and again. _God, how hung over I am_ , I thought the image of me getting it on with her hammering inside my head.

"How much is Harge paying you?" demanded Miss Gerhard. "Harge?" Now I was confused. "MR Aird," she clarified impatiently. "Whatever he is, I'm willing to double, even triple it." Carol stared at me intently. "I don't... my friend..." I started making no sense, "I don't want a penny of it, not a single dime. All I've done so far is take pictures... not very useful ones, and I have no wish to pursue this any longer." _But I wish to pursue you_ , I wanted to cry out loud. I _want_ to pursue you. _I want to throw you on the bed and rip your clothes off with my bare teeth._

For a minute I was afraid if I had really said it all aloud for they kept looking at me funnily. "Well that explains it..." _Had I really said it out loud? Jesus fucking Christ?!?_ "What?" I asked apprehensively. "The photos in your briefcase." _I had photos in my briefcase?_ I hadn't noticed my briefcase until now. "The close-ups. Of me." She sounded slightly amused. _Better amused than sad and disappointed, right?_ "Not your run-of-the-mill, grainy surveillance trash either", Gerhard added. "Real prints and all." She glared at me for a moment. "So what are you then? An inept, misguided private eye or just a mere loser getting a hard-on by stalking a perfect stranger?" I stared at her in disbelief. _How could she know?_ And how could I be so ridiculously happy to be a horny loser instead of a professional doing her job no matter how sordid it was?

"No need to be harsh, Abby." Carol paced the room contemplating her next move. "If what she says is true, we may be able to work this out to our advantage." She gave me a serious look. " _If_ she's being honest... and she did try to tell me something before her lights were out." Abby was annoyed. "You can't possibly trust anything she's telling you! Carol..." I must have had a frightened look on my face since the blonde beauty stopped to examine me closer. "Well, either she is a damn good liar or she's telling us the truth." I never had much of a poker face.

My phone started buzzing. For a second I didn't know what to do. "Go ahead, pick it up," Carol commanded, "I bet it's your friend anxiously waiting to hear about last night." Her voice had a harsh edge to it. "Hey..." I said to Cantrell who could hardly wait to hear my voice. "Where the hell have you been, Belivet??? You were supposed to call me, remember!!" I glanced at the women listening to my every word. "Sorry about that. I meant to call you but I guess I dozed off." Cantrell was furious. "Dozed off? DOZED OFF?? I thought you'd had an accident or something. Or that someone had pulled a fast one on you..."

She was speaking so loudly her voice was clearly heard by all of us. "It's about time you start delivering, Belivet. All you've done so far is gawk at this woman adoringly and gone all weird on me..." I felt my cheeks reddening. I could also feel Carol's eyes on me. "Where's your head, for god's sake? All those bloody artsy fartsy pictures you've taken of her and not a single one I could use." _Shut the fuck up, Cantrell..._ "I mean just _how many_ have you taken? A hundred close-ups? More?" I was ready to pass out again. No, I _wanted_ to pass out again. Out of sheer embarrassment. "Listen..." I started weakly. "NO, YOU LISTEN!" Cantrell screamed at me. "Get your head out of your ass - no, make it out of _her_ ass and do what you're supposed to do! See you first thing tomorrow morning." The line went dead.

I couldn't face either one of them. Carol moved impatiently in her chair, and I could have sworn I heard Abby stifle a snicker. "I guess I must be..." I mumbled nervously and started gathering my things. I noticed a particularly lovely picture of Carol poking out of my briefcase. Without saying another word I pushed it back in. I felt drained of all my energy, sad and depressed beyond belief. Cantrell had ripped me apart right in front of Carol who wanted nothing to do with me and probably despised me by now.

"Not so fast." Her tone made me put my bag down. "We need to come up with a plan to beat this thing. To beat Harge at his own game." Abby nodded in agreement. "So how do we do it? Any ideas?" She aimed her words at me. I tried feverishly to think what to say, how to prove my worth. "Knowing what we... eh, _you_ now know gives you the upper hand," I started looking at Carol. "And I'm in a position to turn this thing to your favor at all times."

Cantrell would hate me for this but what could I do? The gray eyes were drilling a gaping whole in my head and all I could think was "go ahead, read what's on my mind" though I knew it wasn't a secret anymore.


	5. The Angel

Carol had spotted me at the Ritz, they both had. My attempts to be inconspicuous had failed miserably. She'd seen me at Bloomingdale's as well scrambling to get back on my feet behind the miniature train display. Then at Scully's and finally outside her lawyer's office. _I really, really suck at this_. For a little while she'd thought about shaking me off her tail right there and then, she said. 

"Why didn't you?" I asked quietly. "I was curious to find why anyone would put a waif-like creature such as you to follow me around." _Waif-like's good, right_? She didn't have a flat tyre either, she just wanted to establish a contact to figure me out. "The rest was easy," she summed up dryly. I could hardly argue for I had flown right into the trap she'd set up for me as if I were Icarus with a serious death wish and she the scorching sun.

We couldn't very well be seen in public together if I were still to spy on her for Harge, she said. I agreed. She gave me an address where I should meet her later that same evening. I didn't recognize the name of the place but promised to be there at the given time. During the remaining hours between now and then I would come up with a fool proof plan as how to throw her snake of a husband off her case. She didn't look too convinced. _Maybe the fool part was too much, I don't know._ I couldn't blame her.

* * *

I returned to my apartment various scenarios sprouting out of my head already. How could we pull this one off? Preferably in a way that would drain even more money out of Harge and leave my friendship with Cantrell intact. I couldn’t really turn my back on Genevieve who’d been my best pal forever. I had to come up with something she could both live with and earn dough in the process.

I thought about calling her and spilling the beans right away but decided against it. Another bad decision on my part though I didn’t know it at the time. Instead I took my notebook and started scribbling down some preliminary thoughts on the subject. _Yeah, this could work._

* * *

The address she'd given me turned out to be a motor lodge along the highway leading out of the Metropolitan area. It looked like a real sleaze joint and I couldn't for the life of me understand why Carol wanted us to meet in a place like this. There was a hashtag and a number below the address and it took me a while to realize it referred to a room number. _She has a room in this motel?_

Hesitantly, I knocked on the door number 13. For a minute I was quite sure I had somehow misunderstood and would be greeted by some angry stranger whose private business needed no second-hand validation. The door opened and I found myself face to face with the now familiar gray eyes. She looked around to see if anyone had followed me and then pulled me inside. Walking by her, I smelled the luscious aroma of her sweet perfume. I wanted nothing more than to bury my nose in the lush cloud of her fair hair. 

The room matched the exterior of the place. It was positively depressing. This was a room where people came to have illicit carnal affairs in, a room where all hope died and illusions of life well lived leapt straight out of the window. The paint was peeling off from the sides of an ugly bureau in front of a speckled mirror. The huge bed in the middle had a dreary mauve spread over it, its tassels drooping down to the beige wall-to-wall carpet. I could hear nondescript noises coming from a room right next to it and felt really disturbed by the entire setting.

There was a bottle of wine and two glasses ready on the small table by the bed. _Hardly the compliments from the management_ , I thought suppressing a nervous smile before it reached my face. "Would you like a glass of wine?" she asked gesturing me to sit down right across her. "Depends on what's in it this time." _I couldn't help myself_. She seemed to find my remark funny since for the first time after yesterday evening I saw her crack a smile. "Just Cabernet," she replied flashing a perfect set of pearly teeth, "I thought I had better keep you conscious tonight." _Was she flirting with me?_  

"Quite a place you've come up with. Couldn't find anything more appealing - like Bates Motel?" She shot a sharp glance at me. "Some of us actually know how to be discreet. I didn't want to take any chances with you." _With me?_ Something was definitely off with this set-up.

Ignoring my uneasy feeling I decided to tell her what I had come up with. Carol listened to me with growing interest, seeing clearly where I was aiming at with my tentative plan. I couldn't help but stare at her left hand playing with her hair from time to time. The way it brushed her neck send lovely shivers down my spine. 

After several uncomfortable pauses in conversation she emptied what was left in the bottle to our glasses. “Do you live alone?” she asked putting the bottle away. “I do”, I replied catching my breath. “An attractive young woman such as you must have suitors lined up, I’m sure”, she added as if it were a question instead of a simple statement. _Attractive? She thinks I’m attractive?_   “No, I don’t think so”, I hastened to answer, “I can hardly decide what to order for lunch let alone whom to date.” I was rambling, and she seemed to ponder my words carefully.

"So what are you, Therese?" It was the first time she said my name in twenty-four hours. I looked puzzled. "Are you a stalker..?" _Stalker with a hard-on, you mean?_ flashed through my brain. I looked at her intently almost but not quite smiling. "What do you think?" _Two can play this game_. My eyes never left hers. 

She got up, her hands fondling her pearl necklace. "Maybe you are," she said sitting down on the edge of the bed. She kicked her heels away and leisurely removed her jewellery as if I weren't even in the room anymore. Pulling her blouse out from under her skirt and opening its top buttons she looked at me in a way which made my chest heave of desire. "In that case you are a very beautiful stalker, Miss Belivet." _Now that was a come-on, wasn't it?_

I got up very slowly, uncertain if I were even able to make the short distance to her. I felt clumsy, out of touch with myself, with my body which seemed to be speeding on its own, to be getting ready for a lift off more fabulous than anything it had ever experienced. There was a multitude of things going on inside me which my conscious self was not aware of – it hadn't yet been invited to take part in any of it.

When I got to a mere feet from her, she took my hand and pulled me closer. Her fingers touched the fabric of my jeans right in front of her face, the brass button and the vacant belt loops, the golden stitching of the side pockets. Swallowing hard, I just stood there and let her light strokes burn me in the most magnificent way. 

She moved her hands softly on my hips and gradually let her palms slide down on my buttocks. "Is this what you want, Miss Belivet?" she murmured watching me pant under her detailed scrutiny. "Yes..." I whispered struggling to get the word out. She got up never removing her hands from my butt making us stand really close together. It felt like stepping straight into the tropics from a glacier formerly known as my life, experiencing heat and humidity for the first time as they really were – relentless, inescapable and ever present. 

Though the moment before our lips touched lasted a lifetime, the kiss itself started already before the actual contact, before the languid brushing of our pillowy mouths together. It started as electricity, as vivid buzzing of our bodies seeking a common frequency, a vibration teaching us all the right moves at all the right times. 

Mine was a terrifying need to fulfill but I didn’t know it until then, until the minute I pushed her on the bed and went for the jawline, the collarbone, the enticing, willing curves of her naked body. _Only then did I really know who I was, what I was made of._ If our ability to deal with adversity speaks for our strength of character, our ability to let ourselves go, to disappear in want and desire is a witness to our incomparable will to live and thrive on it. 

Maybe it was love or maybe just lust at first sight, at first touch and caress, but when the irresistible, sweet abandon finally opened my fluttering eyes to hers I found in them the long awaited match for my uncompromising, overwhelming need to suck the marrow of life and leave no trace of its wonders undetected, inexperienced.

* * *

"Hmm..." she said when we finally lounged on the bed all burned up and exhausted. "Did I just make you hum?" I murmured kissing the smile forming on the side of her mouth. "You sure did..." she replied moving her forefinger over my lower lip in rapt motion. I could taste the essence it printed on its surface, the essence of me still retained on her fingertips.

I wanted to ask what would happen now, if I had understood her unspoken eloquence correctly, if this was indeed what I hoped it would be, but the timing just wasn’t right and the questions lacked grace and splendor. I cradled her in my arms and fell asleep her blonde locks pressed against my cheek, her generous body intertwined with mine bringing about dreams of gorgeous synchroneity, of pale white flowers on ever spreading green vines everywhere.

* * *

Next morning I went to see Cantrell in her office. To my utmost surprise she was in a great mood cracking jokes with the folks of the neighboring accounting firm. "Isn't it my hapless photographer who’s come to spruce up my day?" She was beaming. "You look different this morning, Belivet. What on earth has happened to you?" I tried to suppress the goofy grin I had been having on since my _"good-morning-did-you-sleep-well-oh my-don't-you-look-delicious..."_ moment I'd shared with Carol just before we parted our ways.

"Never mind, never mind," she enthused, "I have great news, absolutely marvelous news..." _I guess this was one fabulous morning then_. "We're finally getting somewhere with this case," she explained hastily. "Since you couldn't get the job done, I asked Meg to fill in and she sure did..."

Astonished by a set of digital photos she laid in front of me on her lap top, I found myself looking at a picture of Carol _in flagrante_ , in _full_ flagrante, with another female figure whose face I couldn't quite make out. I did, however, recognize the lilywhite ass flaring the camera lens. It had a small angel tattooed on it. _The pleasure it depicted was literally all mine._


	6. The Physical Evidence

_Oh. My. Fucking. God._ I was hyperventilating. Cantrell kept opening the pics one after another and enlarging them on the screen. She hadn't seen them all yet, she said. "Amazing stuff, isn't it?" She was beside herself with joy. 

"I had no idea Mrs Aird had an appetite for younger women..." _Please God, have mercy on me._ "...or for women at all for that matter! But hell yeah, she goes at it like a pro.” _I can’t watch these…_ “Woah! Way to go, Mrs Aird!" _She can’t watch these!_ Genevieve was grinning like crazy. My entire body was in a state of alarm.

 _Oh. My. Fucking. God. Her ass is…_ Yet I couldn't help but stare at the photos of me and Mrs. A... eh, Carol, really getting it on. _…so_ _friggin' hot!_ My cheeks were burning but Cantrell took it as a sign of my growing interest.

"This chick is a serious athlete..." Cantrell said leaning in to examine an exceptionally adventurous position I didn't even know I had in me twelve hours ago. "I wonder how she manages to do it and still maintain such a precarious balance?" _I'm going to die any minute now, please let me die._

 _"_ I know this one! It puts a serious strain on your thighs but it's well worth the effort..." _I know_ _, I know!_   I was squealing inside. _Shut the fuck up._

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD. The first pics were only the beginning. Now we were getting into the really serious shit. My insides were all tangled up but still I could not look away, couldn't slam the bloody thing shut though everything that was still decent in me screamed at me to do so. DO IT –

DO IT – DO IT – DO IT...  _For the love of God!_ Decency had obviously nothing on me right now.I was getting turned on all over again and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

"It's too bad the other woman isn't facing the camera at any point. Meg said she couldn't change the angle nor get her into focus since they were really enthusiastic...” She tried to sharpen the image where my profile was ducking between her thighs. “After three hours she just had to leave but hey, this is plenty, don't you think – with the sounds and all?" 

 _Sounds? What?!?_ Cantrell was only too happy to elaborate. "She drove a spike through the wall and recorded the entire session!" _So that was the strange noise I picked up_. "Oh Meg, I could just _kiss_ her... well, I would if she weren't such an uptight straight girl..." 

With a severe pain, I cleared my throat. "There's a soundtrack..?" My voice was no more than a peep. Cantrell beamed at me. "Hell yeah! You can't really make out the conversation but it's not like they were that interested in it in the first place," she snorted, "I haven't heard such frenzied moaning in... hell, probably never, come to think of it!" She whistled in appreciation. 

I was wheezing even worse than I had a minute ago. "We can listen to it if you want? Something for your spank bank, Belivet!" Cantrell made a move to press the audio file on but I managed to stop her at the last moment. "Don't..." I shrieked my mouth all dried up. "Please, don't..."

"You okay, Therese?" Cantrell seemed worried all of a sudden. "Your face looks positively haggard." I gestured frailly toward the water glass she had on the table. I was grasping at straws. "You want water?" I nodded, painfully aware of my inability to form a single word. Gulping the entire glass in one shaky movement, I collapsed on the chair by her desk. 

"You should take better care of yourself, Belivet. Like this girl here." She marveled the blurred image of me ravishing the blonde beauty from behind. "Shape up or you'll have a heart attack before you know it." Considering my palpitations, her prognosis wasn't very far off.

I tried to catch my breath, return to a state at least resembling normalcy. "Cantrell..." I started, "you can't use any of this stuff." I had to come clean about it even though I'd rather have dipped myself in honey and frolicked naked in a bear cage. "What the fuck are you saying?" Frowning, she looked at me as if I had lost my mind. _Not the first time, I know_. 

"We'll just follow her some more and figure out who the other woman is. She'll go back for seconds, I have no doubt about it." _Me neither_. "I’m calling her The Angel...  see, this tattoo on her right buttock. And a very nice piece of ass it is, may I add." She pointed at the close up of my behind and it felt like she was pinching my real one by some weird voodoo way. 

 _Some of us actually know how to be discreet – yeah, good one, Carol,_ I thought scanning through the thumbnail images once more. I felt slightly better now that I'd decided to tell Cantrell everything. Well, not exactly _tell_ her in so many words... There was a better way to do it.

My legs still shaking, I stood up and dropped my jeans. The sheer astonishment on Cantrell’s face shut her up for a second. For a while she probably thought I’d gotten so worked up by what she’d just shown me, I was actually offering myself to her.

Turning my back on her I pushed my panties down a bit and let her gawk at _the needed physical evidence_.

 

WHAT ARE YOU...

 

WHAT...

THE... 

FUCK..

 

BELIVET?

 

Pulling my pants back on, I could hear her drawing breath really slowly.

 

"THAT'S YOU?"

I nodded, my face remaining expressionless. "Can I have the memory stick now?" I asked very calmly.

 

"THAT'S YOU BANGING MRS AIRD?" She was obviously having a hard time understanding my nonverbal communication. "Yes." The words just didn't seem to reach her brain.

 

"YOU BANGING A WOMAN?" (They definitely weren't.)

 

"Yes." Exhausted, she took out a bottle of whiskey from her drawer and sat down on her chair. It was ten in the morning but I wasn’t going to be a prude about it.

 

"FOR THREE HOURS?" _Hmm, lemme think..._ "You said Meg had to leave after three hours? Well, I suppose it pretty much covers the gist of it." I was cool as a cucumber. Finally.

Cantrell poured us drinks, really stiff drinks, and took a sip of her own still digesting my words. "Hot damn, Therese..." It was too early to know what she actually meant by it. 

 

"YOU'RE BANGING THE MARK?!?" _Now it hit her_.

"I'm afraid I am." She finished her glass and stared at it as if its sudden emptiness were an existential dilemma she needed to solve.

"Since when?" I fondled the cut glass tumbler with my fingers. "Since last night." 

Cantrell poured herself another shot not bothering to offer me any. "But I don't understand... Why?" _Because it felt real good?_   Her eyes were burning a hole in me.

"Because I wanted to. Because she wanted to." I looked at her in all honesty. "And I still do. More than anything I've ever wanted." Now it hit _me_. 

* * *

A half a bottle later Cantrell seemed to finally come to grips with the new reality. With the fact that her best friend was not only a lousy private eye but also a muff diver. “Well, well…” she started handing me the memory stick, “didn’t see this coming.” Then she chuckled. “I wish I hadn’t seen you coming, either.” _I guess I deserved that_.

“So what are we gonna do about this… this highly inappropriate turn of events?” Now it was my turn to answer, to make amends as far as her spoilt business was concerned. “I kinda figured we could still keep on tailing her… only now we’ll do it on her terms.” Genevieve shot a devilish glance at me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Blushing, I just shrugged.

“You know, I don’t like this piece of shit of a man any more than Mrs Aird does but _I_ still have my professional integrity and good name to protect.” Cantrell was pacing the floor and the whiskey burnt my stomach. I hadn’t eaten a thing whole morning so I was pretty smashed by now.

I suppose I was thinking about Carol with a silly smile on my face, since Genevieve got really pissed off with me at one point. “Therese, you’re not helping.” _When did she get so close and why does she look so angry?_   “This problem is not going to go away on its own. We need to figure out what to say to Mr Aird when he comes over.” My eyes kept closing involuntarily, and I had a hard time concentrating on her voice. “I do have a plan…” I managed to say eyeing the office sofa longingly.

“I bet he’s got his own suspicions about his wife’s extramarital dalliances.” _That sobered me up_. “What the fuck do you mean?” Cantrell sighed. “Just that coming here he probably knew there _would_ be dirt, you catch my drift?” She resumed her pacing. “She didn’t quite appear to be doing _it_ for the first time…” she said pointing the laptop on her way. “Well, neither did you for that matter…”

 _So was I just one girl in a long line of Carol’s conquests?_   I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it. Until this moment I’d been crazy happy, starting yesterday, but now a new feeling took over me, a feeling of fear and trepidation. I guess I had waited to see someone like her even before I laid my eyes on her and when I finally did, I couldn’t see the rest of the world in any other way except through her.

“Have you ever been in love, Therese?” Carol had asked me this morning. “No,” I had replied apprehensively. “But you’d like to be?” she had added, smiling mischievously.

Do people always fall in love with things they can’t have? Do I? _Have I?_


	7. The Femme

People say I'm a beautiful woman. Easily the most beautiful woman in a room. In any room. Maybe it's true, but even if it is, it doesn't mean anything. Not to me, to Mrs Carol Aird.

There is one beautiful thing in my life, my daughter Nerinda or Rindy as I prefer to call her. She's the only good thing to come out of my marriage to Hargess Foster Aird. The rest isn't even worth mentioning. He picked me for his wife as if I were a rug for his living room. I, however, was far too clever to remain flat on my back. I'm no trophy wife, maybe I'm nothing although my best friend Abby won't like me to talk that way about myself.

The truth is that my life has been denegerated by mere beginnings none of which have ever taken me anywhere. Finally divorcing my husband, I'm holding on to my daughter and my best friend, my former lover. Oh yes, I do like the ladies if you must know and they seem to like me. We're everywhere nowadays, even in department stores tripping over train sets and hiding behind the plants at the Ritz lobby bar. The formerly unseen has become quite ubiqitous.

I became aware of the poor waif-like creature because of her utter clumsiness. She kept following me everywhere like a stray puppy. Abby suspected foul play right from the beginning. "It's Harge. He's put her on your tail." I found it difficult to believe my soon-to-be ex-husband's fortunes couldn't buy her a more professional spy but her words stuck with me nevertheless.

So I decided to find out who the mystery girl was. I staged a sudden car trouble knowing she would have to stop to help me. She offered me a ride and I invited her for a nightcap. Oh, and then I drugged her. It was too easy, and I felt almost sorry for her. I went through her pockets while she was unconscious on the sofa her petite frame hanging over the armrest like a sack full of dirty laundry. But I could tell she was beautiful. I opened her shirt buttons - I couldn't resist the temptation - and marveled the impeccable paleness of her delicate skin. _I never looked like that._

Abby came over to help me carry her upstairs. We couldn't just leave her there because of Rindy. "So she was sitting on the sofa with her shirt open when she passed out?" Abby questioned me. I just shrugged. _It could have happened._ One thing bothered me, though. The girl - Therese Belivet (what a lovely name, isn't it?) - had tried to tell me something just before her lights went out.

We went through her things - briefcase, notebook, camera bag, pockets - but couldn't really find anything too incriminating as far as she was concerned. Expecting to find some sort of a log of my daily activities on the notebook, I stumbled across a sketch of my own behind. Well, I wouldn't have recognized it hardly ever seeing it myself but Abby said it was spot-on. She had also practised writing my name on its pages again and again. The briefcase was really puzzling since it didn't contain any real surveillance photos. What we found was a set of really gorgeous black and white portraits of me, close-ups every single one. We both found her very talented.

Next morning we were still arguing about what had happened. "What else could I have done?" I asked Abby. "Did you ever think she could be, well - maybe dangerous?" The thought had never crossed my mind. "Well, don't be such a nitwit about it, I can take care of myself and she seems harmless as far as I can tell." Abby couldn't believe her ears. "Oh really, Carol?"

When I saw the curtains fluttering in the upstairs windows I knew she had woken up. It was time to get to the bottom of it.

She spilled the beans, all of them. My initial anger subsided when I realized how hapless she really was. But even both hungover and trapped, she looked absolutely delicious in her skinny jeans and loose shirt. When her boss screamed at her over the phone I finally took pity on her. She wanted to make amends and I knew just the right way to make it happen. As far as her plan was concerned, I really didn't expect anything from it.

I gave her an address for a motel I've every now and then used for my so called social activities. I spent the day with Rindy having the most marvelous time ever. She was taking pictures with the pocket camera I had given her for Christmas, and for some reason it made me think of that girl and her photos. Well, she's not exactly a girl anymore, now is she? I did check her driver's license.

She came to the hotel at the exact time, and I was pleasantly surprised by her eloquence, wit and insight while explaining her plan to me. I did notice her watching me intently, paying attention to my each move as if she were sketching me inside her mind. Suddenly I just couldn't take it anymore. We'd even finished the wine bottle already. I figured it would take years for her to find the courage to make a pass at me so I decided to make it easy for her. And is there anything more forward than undressing yourself in front of a stranger? I even described her as a very beautiful stalker - she finally took the hint.

For a minute I was worried if this would be yet another sad encounter with a fumbling virgin, when she literally took me by surprise. It felt as if a switch in her head had clicked on bringing about a whole new person - someone who enjoyed sex passionately and wasn't scared to show it. She devoured me like no one I've ever known and it went on and on for hours. And yet it didn't feel like empty acrobatics to me. There was tenderness and longing in her emerald eyes when our thirst was finally quenched. I slept in her arms better than I had in years.

I went home the next morning and called Abby. She had guessed what had happened and didn't sound too happy about it. Dear, dear Abby... I spared her the details and the mood that had set upon me.

The mood... I had satisfied my curiosity with Therese but all of a sudden it didn't seem quite all there was. Am I using sex to try to find other things altogether? Some things are always vague, I guess.

 

 


	8. The Plan

I was a bit apprehensive about our meeting the next night. I was still confused about what had taken place in the motel. Still, I wanted to see her again, to discuss the plan she had so cleverly devised. She would meet me at my place this time. I couldn’t ask her to come to the motel again, now could I? It would’ve sent an entirely wrong message, I thought.  
  
So why was I so nervous about this? I asked myself going through my regular chores at the house. I’d spoken with Harge on the phone and it had been perfectly cordial. Rindy was doing okay, and so was he. I could’ve sworn he sounded a bit gleeful though I had no idea why. Anyway, I was happy to put an end to that call.  
  
The doorbell rang at 8 sharp, and there she was standing behind the front door looking quite the same as I remembered. For a moment we didn’t say a word, just kept staring at one another. My heart was pounding rather heavily, something I don’t recall having happened – well, ever before.  
  
_And then she jumped me_. That little girl who seemed to be staring at me quite sullenly pushed me roughly on the floor and literally jumped me. Jesus, I had no idea she had it in her.  
  
And I let her, oh god how I let her. It felt like she had multiple pairs of hands working their way inside my blouse, my skirt, my stockings. I could feel her breathing heavily on my neck and into my ear. Her mouth came onto mine as molten lava if you pardon me such a cliché. It just really felt like it. The front door was still open, and I gestured breathlessly for her to close it before we took our fervent get-together any further. Her eyes aflame, she finally understood my meaning and ran to close it.

“Bed!” she exclaimed as if she were somehow half-witted or otherwise verbally challenged. Sensing the whereabouts of the desired location, she grabbed my hand and started dragging me up the stairs. We made a dash for it and collapsed on my king size mattress. What happened after makes even me, the loving mother and the recognized society lady, blush even now as I remember it. It was as if our bodies were made of some material that when put together they instantly created desire. My god, between those silk sheets of mine we possessed a miracle!

What started as a frenzied rendez-vouz fulfilling our breathless appetites eventually took a more meditative nature. Well, it did take three or four turns of unadulterated joy of seeing us both come gloriously undone. Out of breath, she crawled on top of me and looked me straight in the eyes. "Hey Carol..." she said smiling disarmingly. "...if I may call you Carol?" she added a bit apprehensively. "Well, I'd find it rather peculiar if you were to call me Mrs Aird your lips still glistening of me..." I answered. She smiled adoringly at me.

"Therese, what is it you want from me?" I couldn't hide a certain vulnerability evident in my voice. She moved up so close her delicate features were almost a blur only the green eyes sparkling like dark malachite stones from some distant planet. "Carol, I love you," she said simply as if she'd said "I'm hungry" or "It's raining outside". It came out so easily, so matter-of-factly, I didn't doubt her for a second. Not knowing what to say I just fondled her ear as if she were a puppy. "I'll be right back," I said. I needed to take a moment and just stare at the wash basin in the bathroom.

 _This is not happening_ , I thought taking a deep breath. I could feel her presence in the other room waiting for my return, and I wanted to go back. I wanted to go to her more than anything and speak the words I had never uttered to a living soul other than my daughter. I loved everything about her, my beautiful stalker, though before that very moment I hadn't known I needed a stalker in my life. The idea of her not following me around seemed suddenly terrifying and very lonely.

When I got back Therese was sitting up her arms curled around her knees. She looked somewhat hurt and I couldn't blame her. I guess I had stayed in the bloody bathroom too long. I went to her and cupped her face as if she were a child and me her mother. No, that can't be right. As if she were an angel flung out of space and me an older woman catching her. "Therese, this isn't the time and the place..." She looked at me curiously. "Are you afraid?" I shook my head. "No, I'm not afraid." The only thing I was scared of was her youth and the stubbornness she seemed to carry around like an overnight bag.

* * *

It was an odd pillow talk that followed. First she laid out her plan: 1) she would tail Harge instead and provide me with the needed proof of _his_ extramarital activities. I was sure there were plenty, I had had my share of uncomfortable encounters with his floosies, but I was quite worried whether Therese could pull out a real surveillance job. She gave me her loveliest smile and convinced me she would this time be quite the professional; 2) she would follow me around in order to make me look like the mother of the year - all I had to do was visit children's hospitals, orphanages, charity functions and Rindy's school's bake sales - she would make damn sure I'd have the divorce court judge weeping out of sheer happiness to have met a do-gooder like me.

I liked the sound of it. I also liked having her tell me all that without any clothes on whatsoever. By the time we got to the point she mentioned the bake sales I was so damned turned on I could hardly think straight. When she mentioned the judge part she was already straddling me and all I could think was that the do-gooder in me really wanted to do her good.

Afterwards I was quite spent having never experienced anything quite so intense and _ongoing_ in my life. I thought we'd surely fall asleep for the rest of the night. Smiling deviously, she said she however had something she wanted to show me; something she'd snatched to herself and which couldn't hurt us in any way anymore. "Let's take a look at it - just for the heck of it..."

The memory stick and the incredibly hot stuff on it. Jesus, Mary and Joseph... we didn't even get through half of the pictures!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has nothing to do with the chapter but hey, I gotta share: my very own Carol (dvd) arrived today and I'm simply over the moon!


	9. The Shindig

I hadn’t seen Therese for days. Well, I had seen her lurking in the background taking pictures of me while I was shaking hands with school principals, kissing poor orphans and handing out checks to local hospital representatives. It seemed a bit unnecessary since all the local papers had sort of picked up on my charities; I had an entourage of newspapermen following me around wherever I went and the headlines even matched the idea my little stalker had envisioned in her pretty little head.

>  “Mrs H.F. Aird opens a new wing at the Good Shepherd Children's Hospital”
> 
> “Shelter me – Mrs Aird lends a helping hand to the homeless”
> 
> “A Real Christmas Carol – Mrs H.F. Aird hands out gifts to the unfortunate”  

Gotta admire the wittiness of the members of the almighty press. NOT. Though Abby did get a tremendous kick out of it. She thought my attempt to raise my overall respectability was a hilarious feat she wouldn’t want to miss for anything. “So what else is new?” she asked me suspiciously. “Oh, nothing much…” I replied trying to make it sound as casual as possible. “Other than you’re banging the chick with the camera?” I turned around and blushed, I’m afraid. “How did you know?” I demanded. “C’mon, Carol… you haven’t said a word about her in days and you’re wearing a friggin’ scarf inside!” Abby took a drag of her cigarette eyeing me angrily.

“Well, if you must know, it just happened. Just one of those things.” I downplayed the situation as carefully as I could. “Yeah? She happened to land on you and her top was open like the night you drugged her?” Abby stared at me sternly. I sat down on the sofa. It was no use keeping this from her anymore. After all, she was my dearest friend.

“She’s the one I like, but I don’t suppose I can have her, can I?” I said looking at her. The features on Abby’s face softened all of a sudden. “Oh…” she uttered surprised by my quiet candor. She sat down beside me. “Are you really so glad to have met her?” Abby spoke after a meaningful silence. “Yes,” I acknowledged conscious of the irrevocable happiness of this moment when I finally knew what I wanted and wasn’t afraid to say it out loud. “Does she feel the same about you?” she asked. “Yes.” The powerful simplicity of a one-word-answer reminded me of Therese.  

“She’s young,” Abby pointed out. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I shook my head as if trying to get rid of the facts which were haunting me. “No.” It’s easy to speak when what you say is true. “I never did,” I said taking her hand compassionately. Abby was always on my side, even when her own heart was breaking.

* * *

Therese called me later. Not that she was much of a talker to begin with but a phone conversation… phew… that was something else. “Carol…” she said and expected me to pick up from there. I didn’t. A very long silence. I couldn’t take it. “Yes?” She knew how to irritate the hell out of me but I could _hear_ her smiling and it made me happy. “You won’t make any mistakes, will you?” I said after a while. “No.” I kept the phone glued to my ear and she did the same for I could hear her breathing steadily on the other end. One might have touched the air between us. The thickening, wildly fragrant air.

 _This is ridiculous_. Not quite insanity but – blissful. I stood in the warm square of early evening sunlight and felt it warm my body like Therese did. And the mere thought of her was suddenly too much for me.

* * *

I knew Harge was planning to throw a party tonight. I wasn’t invited, of course, but Therese would most likely be somewhere in the neighborhood. Our odd little phone talk hadn’t revealed any of her plans but she must’ve known about the shindig. I needed to see her, _just a glimpse of her and then I could be at peace_ , I thought.

At 9 PM I was already sneaking around Harge’s place trying to peek through windows for a look of my little waif. The party was in full swing and the master himself was grandiosely entertaining his guests with a number of his trademark jokes which rarely induced merriment. Boredom, yes - laughter, no.

I had put on a cape and covered my face with a veiled hat. My heel stuck in the flower bed behind the terrace door and while I was trying to pull it off, I got a run in my stocking. _Bloody hell!_   I grunted when I suddenly saw her inside. There she was in a maid uniform serving canapés to the hapless crowd drinking and dancing the night away. _Hmm… a maid uniform…_ and now she was talking to that Harrison woman – _what was her name again_ – Jeanette? Her husband was docking her allowance so she pretty much put it out to anyone willing to flip an expense account her way. Harge had, that I knew for sure... _but what the hell was she talking to Therese for_???

My angel was smiling – _what the fuck is she smiling about?_ – graciously to that _wench_   who seemed to be having the time of her life. I tried to rip my foot off the bloody mud but ended flat on my back instead. In the process I inadvertently clung to the vegetation creeping up the wall boards and managed to pull something down. A loud bang followed and for a moment I just stayed there listening if anyone had picked up on what was happening outside.

“Carol, what the fuck!?” Therese was standing behind me helping me back on my feet. I just stared at her all hurt and pissed off. “Fuck you too!” I said and started towards my car. I heard her footsteps approaching. “What is the matter?” _Wow, a four-word-sentence_. “Nothing. Why don’t you go back inside and see if the lovely lady would like some more of what you were so happily serving…” _Why can’t I keep my trap shut?_   I thought turning away again.

The minute I opened the car door she was there beside me. “Backseat. Now.” Her smile was like thousand suns warming me, burning me splendidly when she led me inside and shut the door behind us. If I worried for a minute that someone might spot me there like a teenager with her skirt all hiked up, I forgot it the minute her lips touched mine. And the windows were soon steamed, anyway.


	10. The Curiosity

When I woke up Therese was already putting on jeans and buttoning her shirt. I didn't want her to leave and the sight of her almost sneaking out without a word of goodbye was like a slap on the face. I stared at her silently. After all it does seem like the only efficient mode of communication we ever have.

I couldn't have stayed mad even if I had wanted to. Something in the way her lopsided smile connected with my insistent gaze made perfect sense. Clumsily she crawled on top of me her clothes all wrinkled and still slightly damp of our late night rendez-vous. "Sorry if I interrupted your dressing up," I said trying to guilt trip her just a tad. "I don't mind," she replied, "Can I go down on you?" I couldn't help but smile. "Well, of course!" I retorted. Her grin disappeared below my mound like a hot sun melting into the horizon.

"I can cook," Therese said out of the blue once we were finished. "Omelets," she specified, "Want one?" If I'd let her use the kitchen, she'd stay at least for another half an hour. "Yes," I lied. I hated omelets. But I loved her.

Descending the stairs she let her hand linger on my buttocks driving me almost insane. I made small talk, tried to own the moment best I could but ended up babbling senselessly. If she had pressed me against the wall that very minute and said "Out with it", I would have caved in completely. I would've confessed that I wanted to be with her, that I loved to be with her. In a way I even kind of hoped for it - at least the pinning against the wall part.

When she was looking for a bowl and a pan, I worried she might stain her clothes while preparing our breakfast. "Let me get you an apron..." I offered looking for one. Therese shot a delicious glance at me. "I have a better idea," she decided pulling the maid uniform out of her briefcase.

* * *

"Belivet!" Cantrell was going through a pile of photos while I was lounging on the sofa at her office. I was totally wiped out after last night and this morning. I had pulled quite a few muscles trying to find suitable angles to make the most of my unexpected late night tryst with Carol on the backseat of her car. It took me a while to realize it was a friggin' convertible with virtually no space behind the front seats. So there we were all bundled up like overgrown twins in a womb drenched in our own liquid heat. I mean even _my hair_ was wet.

It would have been okay if Carol hadn't inadvertently poked her elbow on the roof switch. Its mechanism reacted weirdly to her sudden movement causing the roof open up and start yanking back and forth above us. It was nice to feel a cool breeze on my sweaty butt, I do remember that, but it was kinda conspicuous as well. It attracted attention but we managed to make a bare escape - yeah, pun obviously intended. So, no, I wasn't actually in the mood for Cantrell busting my balls just yet.

"Yeah? Wassup?" I relented looking for cigarettes. "This Harge fella is one horny bastard." She was done looking at the pics I had provided her with. "A different broad every single night... sometimes even two at the same time", Cantrell commented. "Don't understand the one with the goat, though..." I got up and took the photo from her. There it was, gawking at the lusty couple, in the background. "Oh, the goat's daughter's pet. He got it for her as a present." Cantrell rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with a cat?" She offered me her Philip Morris pack. "Gotta hand it to him, he's got stamina." She sounded envious.

"Been slow in that department, eh?" I asked making idle conversation. "Well, not totally. Remember Meg? She broke up with her boyfriend and I just happened to be there for her, you know..." She had a sly grin on her face. After a while it kinda turned sour. "Not much to report there, though. A straight girl... and as far as I'm concerned, she might as well remain one," she sighed in a disappointed fashion.

"So what do you make of this?" I asked gesturing towards the stuff I had brought along. There were not only photos but also hair samples, a couple of pairs of knickers, earrings dropped on the bedroom floor, even a push-up bra initialed J.H. "It's all swell, enough to make any married man jumpy as hell, but we'll have to be really careful how to use this..." Cantrell poured us a couple of ryes. "The question remains how on earth are we going to introduce this in a way it won't affect our credibility as his trusted investigators." _Hell if I cared!_

I neglected to tell Cantrell one piece of information I had found about Hargess Foster Aird. While he was doing the horizontal mambo with Cy Harrison's wife, I had gone through his coat pockets and found a revolver, a small Smith and Wesson, with bullets in it. I had mixed feelings, to say the least. Maybe I should have removed the bullets altogether but ended up doing nothing. I didn't want to blow my cover. Instead I ended up having loud and garish sex with his ex-wife in front of his house.

 _Oh Carol..._ my thoughts wandered to her once again. I had tried to imagine her face, the smell of her perfume, becoming meaningless. I couldn't. She had babbled about the affairs between people as a satisfying of curiosity which eventually led to mere repetition. She had sounded bitter, regretful even.

I admit I had been curious at first but what we had didn't quite feel like repetition. The French maid routine on the kitchen table was certainly something neither of us had ever done before. I looked forward to more with eager anticipation. I wished I could be more eloquent about all of it, to let my words circle around the heart of things instead of just blurting out singleminded truths. But I couldn't. Not with her. Then again, why worry about defining everything?


	11. The Sea Turtle

It was the first time we were all present at the same time: Carol, Harge Aird, Cantrell and me. There was also a fifth person, a certain Mr Smith Cantrell had hired to ”represent Mrs Aird’s interests” in divorce and potential custody battle. In other words, Smithee – who we knew from way back – was acting as the private dick who had tailed Harge on Carol’s behalf. His job was to present the incriminating evidence I had gathered over the past few weeks.

The look on Harge’s face was a sight to behold when he realized he’d been caught with his pants down. Not that there was so much to see, he being a peckerhead had more to do with his sleezebag personality than anything else.

Carol did her role spectacularly. The way she expressed her distaste for the graphic photographs of Harge having a dickfest around the city was simply astounding. She lifted one photo after another from the egregious pile as if they were tainted with some gooey cum ejaculated by a subhuman lifeform. ”I don’t know what to say…” she started her voice trembling ingeniously. ”I had no idea _such things_ even existed.”

 _The images of her hurling herself over me on the kitchen table flashed through my brain_.

”I’m simply appalled by the tawdriness of this… this…” She was looking at the picture of Jeanette Harrison sucking the chrome off Harge’s tail pipe.

 _A certain flashback of Carol dining at my Y made me cough all of a sudden_.

She shot a sharp glance at me which made me shut my pie hole once and for all.

His face dark red, Harge examined the evidence. Desperately seeking assistance, he turned his attention to Cantrell. ”Well… what have you got to show for?” he demanded his voice low and menacing. Knowing this moment would come, Cantrell was ready. ”I’m afraid, Mr Aird, we haven’t been as luck… uhm… successful in digging dirt as Mr Smith here.” She was fabulously business like. ”As far as I can tell, Mrs Aird has been an epitome of virtue. It has been duly noted in the press as well as you may have yourself noticed…”

A deathly silence filled the room. Harge Aird got up on his feet and took a step closer to Cantrell. I felt my muscles tightening ready to rip his face off if he laid even one finger on my friend. ”You… have… NOTHING? Is that what you’re saying???” His voice was livid now. ”Sorry to disappoint you, sir, but it’s not like I can draw blood from a stone.” Cantrell shrugged seemingly dissatisfied as well.

Mr Aird glared at Cantrell before turning to Carol. ”You… you, _holier-than-thou_ … harlot!” he spat out of the corner of his mouth. ”I’m not buying this for one second, this – this Snow White act of yours…” _Really… Snow White? Now there’s food for dirty thought_.

Pushing away the irresistible image of Carol offering me a piece of some seriously forbidden fruit, I kept my eyes on Harge who was hovering dangerously close to the woman I love. _Did I just say that?_

I was ready, so ready to punch his lights out if he’d get any closer. Preparing to unleash my wrath upon his sorry ass, I saw him back off at the last minute and pull his overcoat on. ”I put nothing past a woman like you!” he exclaimed exuding self righteous contempt. _What a prick!_ ”This ain’t over yet!” Slamming the door behind him, he was suddenly gone.

* * *

Is there anything better than a sumptuous helping of some good old-fashioned gloating when it comes to hitting your soon-to-be-ex-husband right where it hurts the most? Actually there is but I see no point in delving yet again into the uncanny dexterity of my young lover. Let’s just say I was having a marvelous night.

We decided to celebrate a bit after the scene in the office. I took Therese home with me in my other car, a sedan, just in case we’d get an idea to make a stop on our way to the house. This time she kept her nimble hands to herself, and I figured I might as well wait for a change. In our case waiting definitely constitutes variety, though I wouldn’t necessarily call it an early stage of abstinence either. I did manage to close the garage door before she mounted me on the workbench.

Therese sounded positively ribald when she told me she’d rather be a hunter than a dwarf. I had no fucking clue what she was mumbling about but then again I didn’t really care. Soon my thighs were pressing against her temples as if I were a one wet human earmuff. After several turns of a game we’ve started playfully calling Scissors and Bumpers, we finally left the garage.

Later, lounging in bed, she suggested we take another look at the pics on the memory card. If she was carrying them around, I had absolutely nothing against it. Pouring us some more celebratory champagne, she flipped her laptop open. On one hand a part of me – the motherly side of me – would like to claim it didn’t have the same unabashed effect on me like the time before. On the other hand I find timidness such a waste of time. The laptop was soon forgotten on the side table.

* * *

Carol had to leave early next morning to listen to her daughter’s school presentation. She was very proud of Rindy who had spent several days researching her topic for her biology class – The Mating Habits of Sea Turtles. I volunteered to join her but she didn’t think it wise, someone might still spot us and leak the news to Harge. Rindy would keep her company, she said, they would go together for she was supposed to come by the house in the morning anyway.

I had nothing against it. It might even be fun to spend the day alone in Carol’s gothic mansion going through her things in peace and quiet. I hid in a guest room when Rindy showed up – there was absolutely no point in her seeing me in her mother’s bedroom wearing nothing but my birthday suit.

When I finally heard their car pull off I got up from my hiding place and roamed happily about the house. I guess you could say the spirit moved me for I was suddenly quite eager to have some fun of my own with the memory stick.

I looked for my laptop at Carol’s bedroom where I remembered having left it. There was nothing on the side table. Peeking under the bed, I realized it hadn’t slipped there either. Suddenly I got very anxious. Wracking my brain I tried to think where it could have ended up. Carol must have moved it out of our way, I reasoned. Oh boy, was I relieved when I saw it on top of some books on the desk at Rindy’s room. I could even see the sinful black thingy sticking out from its side.

Opening it, I realized immediately that shit was about to hit the fan. A My Little Pony sticker was attached next to the trackpad. Otherwise the laptop was identical to mine. Needless to say the stick wasn't mine either. _Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck…_

Panicking, I tried to get Carol on the phone but to no avail. They must have already arrived at the school… _The school, the school… what was the name of the bloody school?_ I put on my clothes as quickly as humanly possible and ran downstairs to the garage. Having found the keys to Carol’s convertible, I let the car roar out of the garage and into the driveway. I pushed my foot on the gas pedal – I had no time to waste.

* * *

When I busted inside the darkened auditorium, I got a very bad feeling. I saw Rindy already standing in front of her classmates and their parents ready to start her presentation of… _The Mating Habits of Sea Turtles!_

 

> ”…the female turtles aren’t very choosy, they don’t seem to actively seek out the best partners…”

 

_And there it was again, my lilywhite ass in action._

 

> ”…to mate, a turtle will climb onto another one’s back while they’re horizontally in water…”

 

_Well, the sheets at least were drenched, everyone could see that._

 

> ”…they remain attached to each other for a prolonged period of time, even up to 24 hours…”

 

Poor Rindy hadn’t turned around once to see what was truly captivating her audience – the innocent children and their relatively inexperienced, stunned parents who were trying to make sense out of the unexpected slide show.

Something in me seemed to awaken though, snap into action. I needed to get the memory stick and I needed to do it now. When I started running towards the bloody computer, I could hear someone else’s footsteps gaining speed on the other side of the auditorium.

 _Harge!_ Cantrell may have not recognized me from those photos but this scumbag had a mind dirty enough to put two and two easily together. My initial lead was vanishing rapidly but I kept going, hoping for the best.

When I was only ten feet from the podium, we were already side by side. I tried to poke him at his ribs but he couldn’t be swayed out of balance. At the last minute I decided I had to do something drastic. Without really thinking it through I punched his face and made a nose dive towards the damn stick like a sea turtle in heat… 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the cliffhanger... ;)


	12. The Monkey

And there I was, flying through the air, like a poor man’s Carrie Anne Moss in a cheap rehash of Matrix. It wasn’t graceful, far from it. Landing on my knees I hit my forehead on the side of the desk but it didn’t keep me from reaching for the laptop so tantalizingly close to me. I could feel something warm spurting out of my left temple as I yanked the computer off the table. Harge grabbed my feet pulling me backwards and making me lose my precarious hold of the damn thing. 

With one last desperate attempt I extended my fingers and managed to rip the memory stick out of the flash drive.  _I had it in my fist!_  My joy was short lived, though, for I could see Harge getting ready to leap all over me. In few seconds we’d be wrestling for the friggin’ stick, of that I was absolutely positive, and even though I seemed to possess supernatural abilities as far as snatching it was concerned, I wasn’t at all certain I could measure up to a man weighing approximately 180 lbs.

My head pounding, I couldn’t figure out a way to avoid the imminent contact. At the last minute I spotted Carol hurrying down to my aid, and that’s when it hit me. With an ear-shattering whistle I caught her attention and forcefully flung the stick towards her. Already on top of me, Harge followed its trajectory like a little boy whose balloon has escaped out of his reach.

The auditorium had fallen silent everybody holding his breath and watching the infamous stick swoop through the air. What happened next couldn’t have made me any prouder. If I were the pitcher, Carol was indeed my catcher. She grabbed the stick in midair and dashed right out of the building making a home run this school had never seen before. Stumbling back to my feet, I made my exit leaving Harge to take care of Rindy who still had no clue as what had happened.

Carol was sitting in her convertible with the engine running. I had been smart enough to leave the keys at the ignition switch. I hopped on, and she sped away without a word. By the time we got to the main road she still hadn’t said anything and it made me very nervous. I know I’m not wordy myself but I felt compelled to say something. To re-establish the connection we had and cherished.

Her blonde hair flying in the air I grabbed her hand resting on the gear lever. Allowing me to do so, she just looked at me with those flickering gray eyes of hers. Noticing the bruise on my forehead I saw her expression soften. Overcome by emotion, I couldn’t help it, I had to have her right there and then while the car was still moving fast, speeding towards an unknown location.

Diving under her skirt as skillfully as I possibly could in these conditions, I buried my head between her thighs. The car swerved a bit from side to side while I was having my way with her but she managed to keep it on the road. 

Carol pulled up next to the motel we’d once visited and led me to the room that was apparently at her disposal all the time. She got a wet towel from the bathroom and started to blot my face gently. My heart beating fast, I gazed at her wishing I could just curl up in her arms and forget this morning ever happened.

* * *

It was quite a morning, one I’m not likely to forget soon. It could’ve been worse, though. Rindy’s school might have been one of those enlightened IT schools with a state-of-the-art AV technology installed instead of a crappy video projector they currently had. The one in the auditorium wasn't much to shout about. The images it reflected looked seriously blurry at best.

I had just taken my seat at the back row when the all too familiar images started flashing on the screen behind my poor daughter. I was alarmed to say the least but managed to keep my cool. One could hardly recognize the faces on the screen.

 

> _“…the turtles have very specific roles in their mating the one being the pursuer, the other decider…”_

Watching Therese jump me on the screen, I could only say I decided allright.

 

> _“…the pursuer nips and bumps the decider before eventually mounting her..”_

The details of the slide show were thankfully all too unfocused to cast light to…eh... nipping.

 

> _“…physical damage to both members of the copulating pair is not uncommon…”_

Even though it might have looked like it, we weren't really hurting each other. Quite the contrary.

 

> _“…as you can see on the screen, it is a sight to behold for its grace, beauty, and occasional ruggedness…”_

Hmm… I couldn’t have said it better myself. My daughter is so talented.

I kept looking around trying to figure out what to do next when I spotted Therese entering the auditorium. She had a bewildered look on her face. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time she finally made a run towards the front of the hall. Everything would've been fine, I thought, if only Harge hadn't shown up at the same minute. The man so severely humiliated had come to play the father of the year at his daughter's PTA day. 

I do know he cares deeply for Rindy, she's the one he dotes on, but boy, did he pick a wrong day to show his affection. Well, wrong for me at least. I knew the moment I spotted him this wouldn't end nicely. While the rest of the crowd was quite out of the loop as who the protagonists in Rindy's "turtle show" were, Harge couldn't be fooled. He knew damn well it was me on the screen baring it all.

Therese did a marvelous job, though, trying to correct her unfortunate mishap. It was her fault after all leaving the memory stick lying around at the house. I was upset at first, it goes without saying, but when I saw the bruise on her head I couldn't stay mad for long. The intense attention she showered on me during our drive could've melted a stone.

When we got to the motel I took care of the nasty cut on her forehead. Therese seemed tired, maybe even a bit delirious after her little accident. I don’t recall ever having gone to bed with her without a prolonged sex session first but unbelievable things do happen. I slipped my arm under her neck and she wrapped her limbs around me as if she were a baby monkey and I an ample bosomed Jane Goodall.

I spent most of the afternoon watching her sleep, moving restlessly against me, stirring all kinds of emotions in me ranging from the gentlest mothering to the most lustful behavior I could think of. Again I was taken aback by the incongruity of my innermost feelings. The mother in me wanted to give her warm milk, the wanton woman an orgasm.

My phone kept beeping furiously. Harge had plenty to say and he wasn’t one to mince words. His text messages spat out angry threats. He wasn’t going to lose after all for he’d make damn sure my shameless behavior would be dragged before the divorce court. He would gather the evidence and hit me with it so hard I would never see my poor, traumatized daughter again.

Rindy had been temporarily expelled from school for bringing porn to PTA day, and no judge would look kindly upon a dyke Mommy who had a starring role in it. First he would have to get his hands on the evidence, I mused fondling the stick I’d become so attached to. As much as I loved what was in it, the stick had to be destroyed or at least made disappear. But I also had to make sure he wouldn’t get a chance to gather any more evidence against me.

All of a sudden I realized I couldn’t go on like this, to be spied upon and attacked by a legion heartless bastards led by Harge. The divorce court was still a month away and I had my daughter, my everything to lose. With a heavy heart I knew what I had to do. With Abby’s help I might get through this, I thought, but it wouldn’t be easy.

* * *

When I woke up, my head hurt. It was dark already. I felt a little odd, everything seemed to have shifted and distances weren’t quite what they used to be. My balance was off as well. I must have hit myself pretty badly, I thought touching my sore temple. Watching out of the window, I saw two clouds colliding in the sky and it made me inexplicably nauseous.

Carol was not in bed nor in the bathroom so I figured she’d gone to buy some milk and oranges. I’d gotten several texts from Cantrell who had evidently heard about Rindy’s presentation from Harge. She wasn’t happy but she seemed genuinely concerned as well.

After a while I grew anxious. It wasn’t like Carol to leave without saying goodbye or leaving a note. Or to skip a full night of passion I’d been aiming at before drifting to sleep.

I was just about to call her when I heard a knock on the door. My heart leapt of happiness. But it wasn’t Carol behind the door. It was Abby and she didn’t look too happy to see me.


	13. The Delivery

"Aren't you going to ask me in?" Abby retorted irritably. "I don't particularly enjoy standing here and being gawked at." Without a word, I let her in. Sighing, she sat down at the table. "Got anything to drink?" she asked impatiently. I picked up a bottle of rye from the bedroom drawer. It was Carol's favorite, something she always had around. "Harge gave me a bottle years ago, and I've been drinking it ever since," she had told me the first time we had had a drink together. Well, not the first time since that was when she had drugged me. However, sitting across Abby, I had the strangest longing: I would have gladly been unconscious, drugged out of my mind, if only it would have meant being with Carol, her stripping me on my underwear, lying next to me.

"Where's Carol?" I asked her. "Home," Abby replied matter-of-factly. "Is she coming back?" She shook her head quietly. "No." I drew a quick breath sensing another, all too frightening reality setting upon me like a perpetual sunset. "Why?" Playing verbal ping pong with one word returns wasn't going to get me anywhere with Abby.

"Listen, Therese..." She had a serious look on her face. "You screwed up yesterday. Big time." _As if I didn't know it already._ "The divorce court is a month away and Carol needs to get her shit together, she needs to concentrate, alright?" Abby searched me for signs of intelligence. "Harge smells blood and he's not going to shy away from destroying her if given a slightest chance." She tasted her drink. "You have to stay away from her, am I making myself clear?" I stared at her morosely.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked her as if it had anything to do with the matter at hand. She took a quick breath getting ready to say something. "Would I be here in this sleezy hour motel if I hated you?" Abby quipped instead. "Here..." she handed me an envelope. It was from Carol. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

> "Dearest, we could’ve had an accident driving to the motel this morning. You are reckless because you are young, and sometimes I fear nothing I'll do to you is going to satisfy you. _Not that I think so very often, mind you_. But you will understand this one day. Before it happens, I have much to do, and you, my love, even more (I guess?). And when it happens, I want you to imagine me there, treating you to the most breathtaking of gifts I can possibly offer. Well, I want it and I won't deny it."

Everything coming to a halt, to "full turtle" at the auditorium, only some hours earlier the same day, Therese stared at the letter her eyes positively hurting. The letter made no fucking sense. Why didn't Carol just say "wait" instead of sounding so incoherently melodramatic?

"So what am I supposed to do?" I asked Abby who poured herself another tumbler of rye. "You weren't listening? Are you daft?" _Why do people keep asking me that?_ "Keep your distance, give it some time." She looked annoyed. "Cool it off for a little while!" _As if that was ever going to happen._

My body was aching and it wasn't because of my close encounter with the auditorium furniture. It ached because it lacked Carol on top of it as if my slight frame were just too damn weightless without her pinning it down with her lustful limbs. Carol had even taken the memory stick with her. I couldn't blame her, not really, for I hadn't been able to keep it safe in the first place.

I missed her, I missed her, I MISSED HER. There was no fucking way I wouldn't go to her. Hiding my caller id, I dialed her number. The call was picked up. Choking tears, I couldn't get a word out of my mouth so I just breathed really heavily. "I’d love to continue this further… _but this wire I think is tapped_..." Carol whispered. "Hang on to yourself..." she murmured signing off, leaving me alone in the deepening darkness of the motel room.

* * *

I met Cantrell the following day. She had done some snooping around on her own and she was happy to help me. In fact her whole family would be coming to my aid. Her six brothers would disguise themselves as construction workers and hood the entire Aird mansion for emergency window repair. I must have looked quite confused since she needed to spell her plan out for me. _Okay, maybe I am a bit daft_.

Here's what followed. The next day when I was already reeling with lovelorn despair and sexual frustration, the Cantrell boys came to pick me up. Dannie was waiting outside with his van. Once I got in they told me to strip to my underwear and get inside a wooden box. Dannie assured me this was not some boyish prank or a kinky group sex fantasy. It would make total sense if I would just keep quiet as long as I was told to. Somehow this didn't manage to alleviate all my suspicions.

After a somewhat bumpy ride to New Jersey, the box I was in was picked up and carried out of the van. It was getting really warm inside the bloody thing. I couldn't quite make out what was happening around me but after a while I was apparently delivered inside. Anxious to get out, I waited for the promised sign to be freed of my troublesome state. My legs were shaking out of exhaustion having to stay in such a compromised posture for an extended period of time. I was almost ready to throw in the towel – first wiping myself with it, of course – when I heard footsteps approaching. Somebody was using a crowbar to open my cramped hiding place. Muscles tensing, I got ready to defend my life if needed.

_Oh Carol..._

* * *

My angel had come back to me! I couldn’t believe it, I was beside myself with joy. This was the best gift I had ever received in my entire life. A huge wooden crate the contents of which were quite unwrapped already, I must say! Her legs cramping, Therese stood before me in her calvin klein underwear and combat boots. Her hair was all mushed up and she looked like she hadn’t slept for at least 24 hours.

Her eyes welled with tears when she saw me. Her shoulders beginning to jerk, she cried silently for some time. I put my arm around her and caressed her cheeks, her temples, her nose and eyelids. “Make love to me,” she whispered, and it sounded like a plea, a prayer almost.  

Those weird construction workers, no one had invited, had succeeded in cleaning the house out of Harge’s bugs (they found 27: 14 alone in the bedroom) and knocked out the drivers of all suspicious looking vehicles within a mile perimeter of the house.

I took Therese’s hand and led her to bed in my suddenly quite S/M themed bedroom – the black plastic hooding sort of strengthens such an impression. Now that I knew we were safe, I wanted to take my time with her. Tease her till she whimpered after my soaking wet mouth, begged me to thrust my capable, so easily lubricated fingers inside her – slowly at first, then picking up speed, making her climax the happiest, most delicious crescendo she had ever known – but before I did all that I surprised both her and myself.

I kissed her and she kissed me back.

You may find this an unimportant detail but it isn’t for it wasn’t just any kind of smooching. It started as a gentle, almost accidental brushing of our lips on our way to bed. My blonde and her dark brown head so close together, I could taste both the want and the love in the sweet water of her mouth. Her probing tongue moving expertly against mine, setting me splendidly up, making me throb and drip right onto her hand when she finally cupped my heat, I surrendered to her stupefying lip lock that knew no limits, no end. And I didn’t have to ask if this was right, no one had to tell me, because this could not have been more right or perfect. Holding me, guiding me through my sudden rapture, she smiled against my mouth.

The kiss went through us like a sphere. We’d better not do it in public. At least not just yet. 


	14. The Gun

"I like your breathtaking gift," I complimented Carol after several hours of... hmm... unwrapping it. She looked at me so tenderly I positively melted under her gaze. When she made a move towards bathroom I shook my head and grabbed her waist even tighter. "What is it, darling?" she asked me again attempting to get up. "No, I don't think so." I said firmly pinning her back on the bed. 

She cupped my chin gently. "Dearest, I was just going to the..." Shaking my head, I interrupted. "Not without me." I stared at her very seriously. Finally she caught my drift. "Not even to the toilet?" she specified. "No." I wasn't going to let her slip away again, not ever. This relationship wasn't going to be based on trust. On handcuffs more like it.

So we went to the bathroom. Then I pinned her back on the bed and thanked her abundantly for her kind cooperation. Her breathtaking gift really kept on giving.

"Why did we have to wait this long" I asked afterwards. "Because I thought there wouldn’t be a thirty-seventh time, that you wouldn’t want it. But that’s not true." Carol sounded relieved. "I love you," I said. "I love you, I love you." No real storyteller would be this repetitive but I guess I just wanted to hear the words. 

I knew I would never forget this evening. I mean it even registered as unforgettable while it still lived. It was quite a circus outside the bedroom, the Cantrell boys taking care of the 'window repair'. Carol felt bad for not having offered them any food – after all, they had been sheltering us for six hours already. She urged them to help themselves to whatever they could find in the pantry – ham, popcorn, candy. 

Leopold, Alexander, Nicholas, Frederick, Theodore and Jeff were only too happy to oblige. Carol asked me if the youngest son had been a foundling with a ready nametag on but I still didn't know the right answer. I suppose brain can stop functioning after a certain amount of sex? I mused out loud. Amused, Carol cast a somewhat peculiar look at me.

* * *

Therese categorically kept me from leaving her sight. She even followed me to the bathroom which was a bit weird. _Weird and romantic_ , I thought. When I asked her if she planned to keep me shackled to her from now on, I realized the thought had actually crossed her mind. Well, I myself wouldn't mind being cuffed on a bedpost every once in a while.

The divorce court was 29 days away. So yes, we'd been able to be apart for one whole day. This was not looking good for I couldn't very well have the house hooded for weeks to come. The Cantrell brothers had also found my liquor cabinet which didn't actually fill me with confidence.

We needed to come up with a plan. Therese suggested we stay inside and have sex for 29 days. Well, we could do that, I admitted, but at some point we'd need to eat something else too. She looked so disappointed when I pointed it out, my heart ached. This could almost qualify as our first fight, I thought. 

So I suggested we have some make-up sex before planning any further. Therese looked a bit confused but fetched my compact, lipstick and rouge any way. I obviously needed to explain the concept of make-up sex to her. She learned fast.

Afterwards we agreed we should get in touch with Genevieve and Abby. Maybe they could be of assistance and let us know what to do. Within an hour they both arrived. In the meantime I had concocted a plan I found brilliant. Eyeing suspiciously each other, the three of them sat down to hear what I had to say.

* * *

"The fact remains Therese and I can't stay away from each other." Abby scoffed and Genevieve cast an angry glance at her. She didn't look too pleased with Therese either. "So we need to create a diversion to throw Harge off our track." I made sure everyone was with me so far. "I suggest Abby and Genevieve take our places here in the house – make it look like there are two people living here – while we take on the road for the rest of the month." Both Abby and Genevieve stared at me as if I'd lost my mind.

"Here? With _her_?" they both exclaimed pretty much at the same time. I nodded pleased to see my darling beaming at me approvingly. "It's a fantastic plan", she complimented me. Her remark made my spine tingle of desire. Abby and Genevieve were ready to object but I didn't let them. "When we're apart I miss her. I think of her voice, her hands and her eyes when she looks straight into mine." _Why am I telling them all this?_ " Her courage gives me courage, and even if it's just for one month, I won't live against my grain. What could am I to her if I do?" _A striking beauty with no sex life – no stalker Therese?_

Gerhard and Cantrell were checking each other out. "Well, I guess..." Abby started. "...we could make it work", Genevieve added. Therese hugged her friend – a teeny tiny too long a time for my taste, I admit. When I attempted to wrap my arms around Abby, Therese interrupted us coolly. "Enough already. We need to work the details."

We would leave in Abby's car when it got dark enough. I would be Abby, Therese Genevieve. When we got to the car my brown wig was acting up. I mean seriously. It kept drooping downwards, preventing me to see what was in front of me. Therese was giggling nervously. Her fake dreadlocks didn’t quite imitate Cantrell’s style but I’m sure the darkness had mercy on us.  

Jeff, the short-name-wonder, made sure no one followed us when we left. I pushed my foot on the pedal worrying whether Abby and Genevieve would just end up fighting the entire time we were away.

While packing, I had decided to take my pink pearl handled Derringer gun with me. Just in case, you know.

“Carol…” Therese interrupted my train of thought. “Yes, dearest?” I smiled caressing her inner thigh. “Since you take turns telling this story as well, I was wondering, have you ever mentioned a gun in your voice over?” _How on earth did she happen to mention it right this minute?_   “Why, yes… I just did, as a matter fact.” Therese looked suddenly very worried. “You do know that if a narrator mentions a gun one way or another, it’s bound to be used later on… it’s called narrative economy.” I hadn’t thought of it. _Maybe we should just talk about sex then?_   “Well, have you – talked about firearms?” She seemed troubled. “Yes. When I found one in Harge’s pocket over at Cy Harrison’s house.”

 _Oh dear, this didn’t sound promising, not promising at all_.    


	15. The Fantasy

”Should we get some groceries? Sandwiches, dill pickles, mozzarella, maybe some caviar?” Carol asked when we had stopped for gas. ”Sure, if you like – and some beer too”, I added. The road was open and for the moment it seemed we hadn’t a care in the world. ”Maybe some cake?” I went to the store my fake dreadlocks swinging in the damp evening air.

I must have looked awkward since everybody was staring at me. Not a very good disguise, I admitted. Maybe we should have used some other material than that positively unruly hair from Rindy’s old dolls.

”Can you see if Abby’s got music in this car, I’d like to listen to it while driving. I’m afraid I'll fall asleep behind the wheel unless there’s something to keep me alert. ”I know a way to keep you awake…” I offered wiggling my eyebrows. We pulled over to the curb and I proceeded to make her very, very alert.” When we were finished she insisted I search for music anyway.

I loved Abby’s car, a shiny new Mercedes with all the new features one could possibly hope for. There were even some I’d never heard of before but Carol seemed right at home. We found Abby’s Spotify list installed in its entertainment center and I started to browse through her playlists. ”Can you find anything suitable in there, my darling?” Despite her tender phrasing, Carol sounded impatient. ”Yeah, some.” I pressed a list titled ”Romantic Melodies”. This should be good, I thought, the soft side of Abigail Gerhard…

Carol looked startled when the first suggestive beats of Salt-N-Pepa’s Push It boomed out of the speakers. ”Are you sure this is "Romantic Melodies"..?” she asked. I nodded worrying what was taking place at Carol’s house at the moment. ”Well, she has certainly changed since I knew her at school…” I frowned at her remark. The idea of Carol having sex with someone other than me drove me bonkers.

A playlist named mysteriously just ”Soundtrack” proved better. I chose Helen Foster’s You Belong To Me and ended up hitting replay about fourteen times in a row. ”Yes, I get it,” Carol laughed after the eighth time but I thought it better to stress my point a few more times. After a while I did get a bit frisky which almost derailed us off the road. ”Dearest, as romantic as the thought of our dead bodies being dragged out together from inside the remnants of this car, I’d rather not be literally caught dead wearing this wig…” Carol’s ”Abby hairdo” had yet again hit the bridge of her nose preventing her to see anything ahead.

It was late anyway so we decided it was high time to find lodging somewhere. We found a quaint little town in Iowa though I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the place. The motel could have been better but it did have the one thing we both looked forward to: a huge double bed. Abby’s Mercedes was spacious alright but I thought it would be nice to do it the traditional way, or at least in the traditional place.

* * *

I had already taken a shower and couldn’t wait to tell Carol about an idea I had had in the car. ”Carol…” I started. ”Yes, dearest?” She smiled at me going through her suitcase. ”I have this sex fantasy I was hoping we could make happen if you’re interested?” Carol snapped her valise shut immediately. ”I’m all ears – do share,” she said her voice was dizzyingly seductive.

”I was kinda thinking you could go and take a shower and then do the cosmetics thingy or whatever it is you do afterwards in there, and then I could kinda sit here looking really virginal and wait for you, and then you could come in and you’d have a robe…” I had to break for a little breather. ”A rope?” She interrupted looking rather puzzled. ”No, a _robe_ – you’d have a robe on,” I mouthed the word really softly, ”but I do like your idea as well so hold on to that thought.” I don’t think I had ever spoken this much in my life.

”Anyway, I’d be sitting here in front of this mirror and you’d breeze in and we’d have a short conversation about how hollow and meaningless our lives have been, and then you’d stand behind me and open your robe, and I’d be like ”holy fuck, finally” though I’d be really inexperienced and you’d be this awesome cougar lady who’s taken interest in a poor obsessed girl. But then I’d be like _take me to bed_ on and _leave the lights on_ _because I like to watch_ … though we should probably kiss before the last part happens, what do you think?”

Carol stared at me incredulously but I knew it had nothing to do with my suggestion – she was flabbergasted by my sudden verbal outburst which contained several words, even sentences. Well, I have to admit it was exhausting but at least I got my message across. I did however wonder afterwards how virginal I really appeared when I had nothing underneath my robe in the first place.

* * *

Next morning we left for Chicago. Entering Drake Hotel, I had the strangest craving for a mint julep but Carol wanted four martinis instead. That woman drinks a lot! I had a postcard from Cantrell waiting at the reception. It had a picture of a baby turtle on it. _Funnee_.

 

> Hey Belivet,

 

> Everything okay?
> 
> Some shady characters moving around so we’re staying put.
> 
> Take care and watch your back.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. This Gerhard woman ain’t too shabby. She says hi.
> 
>  

Feeling oddly restless, I wrestled Carol back to the bed. I pressed my face right next to hers to ask her a question that had been bothering me. ”What happens when we get back to New York?” Carol opened my jeans and placed her palms on my bare buttocks – oh what sweet memories we already have! ”We’ll be living together and it will be just the same.” Her words made me so happy, I kissed her silly.

It didn’t quite end there but I’m pretty sure you knew that already.


	16. The Code

“Hey Car… sorry, Abigail!” Abby’s voice on the other end of the line sounded tired. “Everything okay with…eh… Genevieve?”  _So the line was tapped again_ , I thought dumping my cigarette in the ashtray. “Oh, Carol, how nice of you to call,” I exclaimed amused by our changed identities. “You are such a wonderful person, a dedicated mother and the best friend a single woman like me could possibly have.” I couldn’t resist the temptation. Therese was snickering at my words trying at the same time to get me to pay attention to her impromptu striptease.

Therese had picked up some magazines from the shop nearby and was now removing her leather jacket in a rather interesting manner. I had a hard time concentrating on Abby’s voice while she was gyrating her body and massaging her buttocks with the jacket's hem right in front of me. “Abigail!” Abby shouted at me and I snapped out of my reverie. “Yes, Carol darling?” I could hear she was somewhat irritated by my apparent lack of interest. “I just wanted to tell you there may be something you should be  _concerned_  about.” She did stress the word ‘concerned’. “What is it?” I inquired averting my eyes from Therese who was flinging her belt in the air.

“My husband Harge may have taken an interest in you as well, dearest Abigail…”  _What?_  I grew instantly very worried. "What on earth do you mean, dear Carol?" I purred as innocently as I possibly could. Therese was caressing her breasts while taking her top off. "He has sent a friend of his to find out if there's _anything vital_ you might have pertaining the divorce..." I knotted my brow letting her words sink in. _So there was someone shadowing us after all?_

"He may want to ask you some questions and since you haven't exactly been _yourself_   lately, I thought I'd give you a heads-up on this." Therese had dropped her pants and brought the front of her briefs quite close to my face. Let's just say we were only seconds away from her really rubbing it in. I _had to_ concentrate on what Abby was saying so I grabbed her and flung her on the bed. Straddling Therese, I could keep on talking with Abby.

"I will send you a message and to read it you will need to go to the nearest bookstore and buy a certain book..." _Why does she have to make this so bloody complicated?_ I agonized silently. A moan escaped my lips but it didn't have anything to do with my inner desperation. Therese was just trying to speed things up. I ended the call abruptly promising to do whatever Abby wanted me to do. After all, there were things I wanted Therese to do immediately.

* * *

"What was the name of the book again?" Therese asked me two hours later. I could hardly remember my own name let alone the book's. "I'm not sure... some spicy stuff from an obscure Texan author, I think." I wracked my brain trying to recall what Abby had said. "She said we should take every fifth word and form a sentence or something. Or was it every sixth..?" Luckily Abby sent me a text explaining the code – which was ridiculously difficult. You had to go back and forth in the damn book to get it straight. We did finally find the novel in question and started leafing it through. “Not enough sex”, Therese concluded and I had to agree. It was so promising in the beginning, the voluptuous vixen clearly propositioning to the hapless shop girl but then really taking her time bedding the poor babe. It wasn’t like the girl wouldn’t have gone all the way right off the bat!

“We could use this”, Therese mentioned, “this ‘come to mama’ scenario, don’t you think? I could be like this orphan you’ve found on the street and after you’d fed and bathed me properly, we’d end up banging the night away.” I found her fantasy – isn't she prolific nowadays! – somewhat disconcerting this time. I mean I’m not _that_ much older than she is.

Therese tried to decipher the coded message first. After carefully examining the page numbers, paragraph and word order, this is what she came up with:

> "Cactus with fat leaves on her shoulders. Warm flesh like a glass of hot zabaglione. Bahama lilies full of bugs to give me pleasure."

It made absolutely no sense, I told her, but the eloquence my angel conveyed it with was quite something. I thought it was seriously hot. I promised I’d reciprocate her oral prowess with some of my own as soon as we got back to our hotel.

I took the book and gave it another shot:

> "Boy scout didn't win the first round. Defeat impossible for him. Look out for the gangling young man with unruly blond hair, the broad lean shoulders, and the big funny feet in moccasins."

Now this sounded more accurate. Abby even called Harge Boy scout so we knew we’d gotten it right this time.

After making the most of the hour we still had left in the motel, we loaded our things back in the car. I had my Derringer wrapped in a scarf in my suitcase and after considering it a while, I decided to put it in my handbag instead. It’s not like I was going to spend time rummaging my valise looking for it if and when push came to shove.

Therese who still kept a keen eye on me had a worried look on her face. “Carol…” she started. “I know, I know!” I hastened to interrupt, “Maybe we could go to some abandoned junk yard and shoot beer cans or something? That way we could justify the gun popping out in the narrative?” It was a lame attempt to appease our concerned minds but Therese seemed to like it anyway. Besides what else was there to do than have sex and practice sharpshooting? It might come handy at some point.

* * *

We were speeding down the highway when I became aware that someone was actually following us in the distance. He was doing much better job than Therese when I first met her. He knew how to duck and cover when needed, and if we hadn’t received Abby’s warning, we would have been quite oblivious to his existence.

“What should we do?” Therese asked me nervously. I knew we couldn’t possibly face him since it would have blown our cover right away. He knew damn well what the real Abby and Genevieve looked like and we weren’t – let’s face it – even close. I decided to shake him off our tail.

Shoving my foot on the pedal, we shot away leaving only a thick cloud of dust in our wake. Abby’s Mercedes corresponded to my violent thrusts like a wild beast that had been raring to go for far too long. We could see the Chevy disappear from view as if it had been left standing in the middle of the dirt road. I should have been more careful with my lustful abandon in inciting the four wheeled devil for when I shot a quick glance at Therese I saw the all too familiar darkening of her green eyes. When she got that look in her eyes, there was no stopping her – not even when I screamed “Darling, not now!” and felt her hands plunge feverishly between my thighs once more.

Though I managed to ease the gas the car still bolted like a frightened horse. My knuckles white, I held on to the steering wheel and kept the bloody thing on the road. But the luck just wasn’t on our side… it must have been a nail or an exceptionally sharp-edged rock on the road that punched the air out of the left front wheel. I could feel Therese’s nose bump against my hipbone once the car started careening unsteadily ahead. My poor little waif, my heart ached for her though my life was also flashing before my eyes. An aching heart and an all too boring life that had only recently gotten interesting made me perform a miracle: after severe struggle I finally reigned the Mercedes in and to a full stop.

Our hearts beating wildly, we drowned each other in relieved, happy kisses. However we did realize this was only just the beginning of our troubles. I could already hear the Chevy guy, the gangling young man with his massive, moccasin-covered feet gaining on us rapidly.

Looking like Audrey friggin’ Hepburn in the headlights, Therese picked up my handbag and threw it to me without a word. I knew what she was thinking for I was thinking the same thing. This road wasn’t big enough for both us and the monster feet man, and I wasn’t about to yield for anyone standing in our way.

Standing in the middle of the road, I took my gun out of the bag and waited. The wind blew through my hair as I fixed my eyes on the approaching vehicle.

I looked damn sexy even if I say so myself.   


	17. The Spaghetti Western

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter before the finale.

Carol stood in the middle of the road and I couldn’t but gasp at the sight of her. Having decided to challenge our shadow face to face, she had done away with the brunette wig that kept falling on her face. ”What’s the bloody point with it anyhow, he’s going to recognize us the minute he sees us.”

_Right now she looked abso-fucking-lutely amazing in her skimpy, partly torn dress that left little for imagination, her ample chest eagerly panting out of its generous opening like a pair of lost puppies… sweltering heat of the surrounding, sweeping landscape licked her love starved body…  Biting her succulent lower lip she waited, her chest heaving with suppressed emotion as she watched me, her angel, transform into the gunslinger of her wettest dreams… mysterious Terez with a harmonica…_

”For God’s sake, snap out of it, darling, this is a noir, not some tacky spaghetti western!” _She could always sense what I was thinking_. “It’s September and I’m wearing a friggin’ fur coat, not some Fuck-Me-I’m-Claudia-Cardinale outfit!” Carol complained impatiently. Yeah, my fantasy was getting out of hand, I realized and smiled sheepishly at her.

The man got out his car and approached us apprehensively. He was carrying something in his right hand. Actually, he seemed to be poking the ground with it... _What!?_ He had black, round specs and a white cane!!! I exchanged glances with Carol who seemed just as surprised as I was. She slipped the Derringer back into her handbag.

Finally the man was face to face with her. “Hello, Miss Gerhard,” he said gravely. “Hello…” greeted Carol. “You’re blind!!!” I blurted out not quite as subtly as I’d hoped. Carol shot an angry glance at me. “Yes,” the man said. “But I’m not blind to the facts of the matter concerning my brother.” He grinned devilishly. “Your brother?” Carol asked genuinely surprised. “My name is Burge. Harge is my big brother.” The man leaned on his cane. “Burgess Lester Aird’s the name. “ I couldn’t help but snicker at the _stupidity_ of his name. Carol rolled her eyes at me again. _Hargess Foster has a brother called Burgess Lester – what the hell were their parents thinking about?_

“What’s your business, Bur… Mr. Aird?” Carol inquired calmly. While they were chatting I got really disturbed by his blindness and couldn’t but interrupt them. “Excuse me but if you’re blind, who the fuck’s been driving your car? I don’t see anyone else in there…” I thought I made a perfectly valid point. Burge seemed slightly irritated by my remark. “My chauffeur, if you really must know. It’s hard to see him from here since he’s a dwarf.” _Great, now we have ended in a bloody David Lynch movie…_ _Please, please, let this at least be Mulholland Drive! We could end up having a foursome with Naomi Watts and Laura Harring…_ “Ther… Genevieve!!!” Carol exclaimed reading my thoughts again. Well, it’s not like I’m that into Lynch anyway – the only ‘twin peaks’ I’m interested in are lodged inside Carol’s blouse.

“Miss Gerhard, let’s cut the crap,” he said, “I may be blind but I can surely recognize a voice when I hear one. My eyesight might not be of use to me anymore but my other senses compensate for the lack of it.” Carol gave me a puzzled look. “And you, Miss Cantrell, you are the evil mastermind behind all of this, aren’t you?” I could have sworn I heard Carol suppress a laugh.

Suddenly irritated, I looked at Burge. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Burge Aird scoffed. “Let’s just say you know a lot more than you let one.” _What the hell was he talking about?_ “You have done your best to obfuscate my brother’s plans with false information.” Carol scoffed. “Harge has nothing on my best friend,” she claimed trying her best to sound like Abby. Quite a useless effort, if you ask me, but Burge seemed just as clueless as his jerk of a brother. “Oh you think so? We happen to be in possession of a certain memory stick containing a set of _very_ interesting photographs…”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying and kept nervously glancing at Carol. “…the contents of it are enough to make a seasoned streetwalker blush out of sheer coyness.” _Yup, that’s Carol and me for you_. “There’s not a judge in the world who would decide in your friend’s favor after having seen the appallingly garish evidence.” _Appallingly garish?_ I thought they were beautiful, all of them a true testament of our love and commitment evident from the very beginning.

“I recommend you both return to New York immediately. The divorce proceedings will begin on Monday, and we may need to call you in as witnesses for Mr. Aird.” He made his exit and I briefly toyed with the idea of shooting both him and the dwarf with Carol’s gun. I felt sorry for the dwarf, though, he would’ve been just collateral damage and I didn’t have it in me. I didn’t have Carol’s gun either since she was clutching her bag quite ferociously at the moment.

* * *

“Carol…” I started when Burge’s car had left. “The memory stick – you did get rid of it, right?” Carol seemed to awaken from a stupor his news had put her in. “Well, not exactly… I just couldn’t.” Her smile was both lovely and apologetic. “I love those photos, they’re part of our story, darling, and the idea of destroying it was just too much for me.” At that very minute I loved her even more than I thought possible. “But I did bury it in the garden. It’s not like I had some lawn work ordered any time soon.”

“It seems we are screwed, though,” I concluded quietly. Carol took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “If it’s so, we’ll just have to make the best of it. It’s not like we’re ever going to be apart anyway.” I actually _could_ love her even more than a minute ago, I realized.

“Darling, why don’t we go and find a motel and reenact some of those spaghetti western moments you had in mind?” Carol said rubbing my cheek tenderly. “Really? Yes!” I shouted out all excited. “We could do, say, at least _Seven Hours of Gunfire_ and _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly_..?” I suggested wiggling my eyebrows. “Let’s make it Three Hours of Gunfire and The Good and the Bad”, Carol commented. “We’ll have to head back to New York at some point any way and I don’t think the ugly really applies in our case…”

As always, Carol’s point was right on the money. I thought we could have done _The Relentless Four_ as well but for it we would’ve needed Naomi Watts and Laura Harring as well so I thought it better not to say anything about it at the moment.    


	18. The Verdict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! "Everything comes full turtle", so it's time to wrap this zaniness up - thanks so much for reading <3

”You can’t handle the truth!” I shouted distorting my face angrily. Carol popped her head out of the bathroom. ”Is everything alright, dearest?” she sounded genuinely concerned. ”Yeah, sure, I was just practising for the court,” I explained. ”Darling, this is not going to be like in the movies and you’re no Jack Nicholson…” I had no idea what Carol meant since I thought my Few Good Men imitation had gone pretty well.

”It’s not that kind of a trial. There is no jury, just us and the judge who will make the final decision on his own.” Carol returned to what she was doing, putting on her Mother of the Year outfit and finishing her appropriately understated make-up. We both knew we had lost the game already and I felt especially bad for Carol. Losing Rindy was weighing heavily on her fabulously freckled shoulders. I could tell for we had gone three hours and 27 minutes without sex. Not that I was paying that close attention to it… well, more like three hours and 28 minutes now.

We’d gotten back the previous night and talked things over with Abby and Genevieve. Both were in oddly high spirits cackling at some inside jokes they had come up with while we’d been away. I suppose it was a good thing since Cantrell didn’t really have that many friends. I was her friend and as far as I knew I was her _only_ friend as well. There was something refreshing in the way they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, even Carol commented on it later. At least one good thing came out this mess, we both agreed. 

Nothing particularly thought provoking had happened during our absence, they assured. Some positively shady characters had been lurking around the house but other than that nothing worth mentioning. One of them must have stumbled on the buried memory stick, I thought gloomily. Carol should have mined the bloody lawn. She had thought about it, Carol told me but it wouldn’t have been fair to Rindy, she had concluded. 

I suppose she had a point. I wouldn’t have minded seeing the housekeeper blown to smithereens, though. I never liked Florence, she’s creepy to say the least, always following in our footsteps like Mrs. Danvers in Hitchcock’s Rebecca. I shouldn’t be putting down Mrs Danvers, though, she always gets a bad rap. After all, she is a rare lesbian character in the golden age of Hollywood cinema. But you could always spot those in the narrative margins – twisted and menacing crackpots. I wonder if Norman Bates’ mother was also a lesbian?

My mind drifting once again, I became aware of Carol staring at me disapprovingly. ”What?” I asked alarmed. ”Oh nothing… it’s just… never mind,” she scoffed and ushered me out of the house when the clock struck 3:45 PB (post bang o’ rama). I felt miserable but obviously there was nothing I could do about it right this minute. ”Yes, I know it’s been long, darling, but I’m sure you can do without another two hours or so…” Carol said reading my thoughts again. _Another two hours or so!?!_ I wish I could say there was a knot in my stomach but I’m afraid it was located lower than that.

* * *

We drove over to the courthouse and parked the car near the rear entrance. Carol didn’t utter another word when we stepped inside and she motioned me to give her a head start before following inside. We weren’t supposed to enter the chambers together, it would’ve been too conspicuous, she explained. _Yeah, stepping inside together would definitely be much more incriminating than gawking at the x-rated footage with the honourable judge Harris._ I refrained from saying it aloud.

Everyone was present already when I finally made my entrance. Harge was whispering to his attorney looking awfully pleased with himself. Burge and the dwarf were sitting on the second row. ”Nothing here to see”, I wanted to shout at Burge just to make him feel bad, and if the dwarf had claimed to know anything, I mean _anything_ at all, I would’ve cut him down to size. I was a fucking Tourette bomb waiting to happen! 

Carol kept glancing at me nervously and she whispered something to Abby who passed the message to Cantrell. Genevieve approached me trying to look as normal as possible which of course meant she looked so bloody conspicuous doing it, it irritated the hell out of me. She grabbed my arm and dragged me over to the water fountain.

”Listen, Belivet… I don’t know what the fuck’s gone into you but you’re acting all weird.” Scratching her head – I don’t blame her, those dreadlocks are itchy motherfuckers – she looked around before leaning in to whisper me something. ”Carol asked Abby to tell me to tell you… _yeah, yeah, I figured as much_ … that if you pull yourself together, you’ll get your Christmas present early this year.” What the fuck was she talking about? ”I don’t know what kind of kinky shit you two are into but she told me to say these things: Snow White, _Seven Vengeful Women_ , Naomi Watts on speed dial…”

Needless to say, my mood took an immediate turn upwards. “She also said you could throw in an extra bedtime story of your own choice.” _Oh man, I just couldn’t stop smiling!_ I started thinking about my favorite fairytales… what would give me pleasure, hmm... After a while I knew it: Puss in Boots. Of course we’d have to tweak it a little – like the name of the tale – but I was sure I could get Carol really excited about it.

I was in high spirits again. Hey, what’s another two hours if I had such treats coming up my way? How did the old saying go again: Good things come for those who wait? Exactly. And I am waiting, yes, ma’am.

While I was humming a happy tune, I noticed it was getting close now. The judge was on his way and we would start proceedings in just a few minutes. Being a good Catholic girl with a convent school background I thought a prayer would be appropriate right about now. As always my mind drifted to my childhood mentor, Sister Alicia, who had taken such keen interest in me, the poor fatherless child. Thinking of her made me feel all warm inside and once again I wondered if she was alright and how her life had turned out after I had left the school.

Cantrell had tracked Sister Alicia down at some point saying she no longer lived in the convent but ran a lesbian brothel somewhere in South Dakota. I had a hard time believing her, she was after all a nun when I knew her and as far as I could tell nuns and lesbians had nothing in common. I mean yeah, it was all women and this amazing connection and otherworldly rapture thingy going on at the convent all the time but I honestly thought the voices emanating from Sister Alicia’s room had everything to do with exorcism or some other shit like that. I was in awe of her – all that constant praying… the girls and nuns who came out of her chambers – you could just tell what kind of a burden had been lifted off their shoulders, they were positively glowing!

She had always been so very tender towards me as well, calling me her nymph and everything, but only recently I’d started to think maybe it wasn’t a reference to some nature deity at all but a short for nymphomaniac? She always did see the potential in me, and she went out of her way to point out to me that once I grew up, I could rely on her in times of trouble, that even if she weren’t at the convent anymore, she would definitely find me an opening I could fill. Her kind words still melt my heart even though I haven’t really thought about her after meeting Carol.

* * *

The judge appeared and we were ready to roll. Carol took her seat behind her desk glancing at the latest arrival in the courtroom – Rindy! I could see the agony on my lover’s face when she realized Harge had dragged her in to witness her downfall and humiliation. The little girl smiled warmly at her mother who sank back in her chair. _Fuck you, Harge!_ I thought anger rising in me and for a moment I toyed with the idea of ending the charade before it even started. What if we were to just come clean about it? Tell the judge of our newfound love and concede to whatever he saw fit to punish us with. That way we could at least save Rindy from the shock of seeing her own mother in the throes of passion in a dingy motel room.

I wish I had thought about it earlier since it was too late now. Harge’s lawyer started firing away. “Your Honor, we are here to prove Mrs. Aird an unfit mother for her young daughter Nerinda and therefore propose Mr. Aird to have sole custody of her. Mrs. Aird has repeatedly behaved in a manner unsuitable for a woman of her standing and we have plenty of evidence to support it as well.” The attorney paused for a second. “Objection, Your Honor!” I shouted from the back row. I couldn’t think anything else to say. Judge Harris glanced at me rather gloomily but decided to ignore my quip for now. To be honest everyone seemed to ignore it – everyone except Carol who looked at me lovingly. She knew I had her best interest at heart.

The attorney cleared his throat. “I hereby present the exhibit number one as our strongest evidence to support our claim…” Again I couldn’t hold my tongue. “Move to strike!” This time the judge glared at me in no uncertain terms. “If this person who ever she is opens her mouth once more I will ask the bailiff to remove her from the courtroom – forcefully, if necessary.” If the bloody defense attorney Carol had hired would do his job, I wouldn’t have to meddle in, I thought begrudgingly.

Harge’s attorney handed out the memory stick to the bailiff who limped over to the court computer. I thought about leaping all over her and swallowing the damn thing but that wouldn’t have helped our case at all. I would have been sentenced to an all-female prison for contempt of court… _hmm, an all-female prison?_ There’s definitely a fantasy for us – me as an inmate and Carol as a tough-nut-to-crack warden! I’m not sure if I would look particularly good in orange, though, but the legcuffs, oh yeah…

The moment we had dreaded was here. The video projector was turned on and while the lamp was heating up, the time seemed to slow down for a second. I could see Harge gloating shamelessly, Carol averting her eyes from the screen, Abby looking sad and defeated, Cantrell chewing absentmindedly bubblegum and the dwarf sliding his hand up Burge’s thigh… _What???_

I squinted my eyes automatically as if to soften the inevitable blow… the light flickered on the screen before it focused on the pale derriere right in front of the prying lens of a camera. I opened my eyes just a bit more to realize the right buttock had no friggin’ tattoo on it!!! IT WASN’T MY BUTT AFTER ALL!

After a few more pictures had flashed on the screen both Carol and I were leaning towards them in astonishment and relief. Harge let out a desperate gasp realizing the woman sucking the living daylights out of her willing prey was not her soon to be ex-wife. By this time the bailiff had mercifully pressed Rindy against her uniformed bosom. But it wasn’t Harge’s grunting that caught my attention, no way… it was the wailing emanating from behind Carol that really got me. Cantrell had covered her face in agony while Abby was busy crawling towards the exit. The bloody paparazzi Harge had hired had photographed our stand-ins doing the nasty!

I was beside myself of joy and happiness! Thanks to Abby and Gen’s fervent and I must say quite inspired and what seemed to me somewhat tireless screwing we two weren’t screwed after all! Carol whispered something in her attorney’s ear which made the man jump up immediately. “Your Honor, I object to this gross misconduct of justice. These pictures have nothing to do with my client and have been purposefully planted by Mr. Aird to discredit her and cast a shadow on her good reputation… who these people are, I have no idea, but I hereby propose all these outrageous charges against Mrs. Aird to be dropped.”

Judge Harris didn’t mince his words expressing his distaste in Harge’s behavior. It took him less than five minutes to decide on Carol’s favor – the sole custody, a half of everything Harge owned and then some in the form of alimony. While I was counting the seconds for him to bring down the gavel for good, something unexpected happened. Desperate Harge pulled out his gun and started wielding it towards each and every one present. To make matters worse he pulled Rindy in front of him as a human shield in order to make sure we’d stay far away from him. What kind of an asshole shields himself with his own daughter??? He could have taken the dwarf as well since he was sitting right next to him but then again him being so short it would have left Harge wide open to a clear shot.

A moment before I had moved next to Carol eager to kiss and embrace her but now I knew that something totally different was expected of me instead. Aghast, Carol looked at me hoping I would come up with a solution to the hostage situation at hand. Now, you may recall from earlier chapters that I am an aspiring set designer. I know I haven’t really mentioned it since my carnal nature has taken over everything else, but now I could see how to use it to my advantage.

Designing sets gives one a sort of an intuition as far as space and distance are concerned, so I put my experience in good use. I knew Harge wouldn’t harm his own daughter but keeping her in front of him made it impossible for us to use firearms in any way either. It didn’t mean however that a gun couldn’t be used _at all_ …

I grabbed Carol’s handbag, pulled out her pink-handled Derringer and flung the heavy, blunt instrument smack on his forehead. Bullseye! Harge went down in one perfect pitch. _There’s some narrative economy thrown your way, huh! Didn’t see that coming, now did you?_

Tears running down her face, Rindy ran to her mother and me. Her clinging to us made a nice portrait, I thought. I could get used to it. Anyway, by the time we got out of there it was 5:15 PB and I was getting anxious even though I had so much to look forward to. Opening the car door for Rindy, Carol winked at me. _My God how I love that woman!_ I may have a one-track-mind but it is the track we both tread upon.

* * *

_Hey, it’s me, Carol_. Of course I had to have the last word, did you expect anything less? I am one lucky, blissfully satisfied woman nowadays. Everything turned out just perfect – me having Rindy all to myself, Therese by my side literally _all the time_ , Abby and Genevieve madly in love, Harge in prison… why do people talk of heaven? This is it. I even found _our_ memory stick still hidden underground.

I finally got to introduce Therese to my daughter. “Say something nice just to break the ice,” I whispered to my love. Well, Therese shook Rindy’s hand and did the best she could, I suppose. “Hi, I’m your new stepmom.” Not quite what I had hoped but then again why mince words? Therese has a way of growing on people and I’m not speaking entirely figuratively. Even now she’s following Rindy all over the house but I think my little girl enjoys her attention in some weird way. After all, she takes after her mother.

We’ve decided to get married as well. Therese popped the question and I said yes. She even had an idea for our honeymoon trip. I expected something like Paris, London or even Tokyo but for some reason she wants to go to South Dakota… well, it’s not like we’re going to get out of bridal suites any way.

 _Oh, happy times!_    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About this fic... all I can say for my defense is that I just wrote down every single thing I happened to think of... it's been fun to envision our favorite girls as oversexed, horny rabbits. If you have the time, leave a comment, it's always much appreciated. Again, thanks for staying tuned :)


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